


Finding a Way Back

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, Episode Related, Gap Filler, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-07-16
Updated: 2004-09-27
Packaged: 2018-12-27 01:47:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 78,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12071166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: After 308, Justin and Brian begin to work with each towards a new relationship. But in true B/J fashion, nothing is ever easy.Author's Note:  I've made some revisions to Reunion and Reunion 2.  I have also changed the most recent chapters.  Feedback is encouraged.  Thanks!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

When Justin had walked into his office that night, the last thing Brian had imagined was that he’d have ended up fucking his ex three ways to Sunday. On the desk, the floor, and his chair. Inventing new positions they hadn’t tried before, ways that Justin pulled him deeper and deeper inside. He eased out and Justin gasped as he suddenly felt the emptiness, wanted the fullness he craved when Brian was inside him.

Brian rolled away from Justin, tossing the used condom in the waste basket. He glanced down at his chest, realizing that Justin had shot his load on it. If things were different, Brian might’ve suggested that he lick it off his chest but remained quiet. For once in his life, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say, what he needed to say. From the moment Justin had walked into his office tonight, the reins had been in his hands, control Justin’s. A hundred different emotions and reactions were going through his head. And if he were perfectly honest with himself, he would admit that their reunion hadn’t been mere fucking. Something more, something spiritual, something like two halves of a whole melding into one. And that scared the shit out of him, the fact that he might need Justin. The fact that Justin might really be a part of him.

“Jesus,” he said in a low voice. 

Whatever Justin had been expecting it hadn’t been this. Hadn’t expected the vulnerability he’d seen so rarely in Brian. Vulnerability he hadn’t seen since after the bashing, when they’d both been so raw, laid bare by emotion. “Brian, I---”

Brian turned towards him, sitting up. “Don’t. Don’t say anything.” Anything at all might trivialize the moment, the fact that Justin was once again in his life, in his arms, and in his bed, so to speak. Not to mention he needed time to process what had just happened between them.

Suddenly Brian surged to his feet, seemingly unconcerned about his nudity. Justin was all too aware of his lover’s magnificence. He felt his breath catch as he took in the sight of Brian. It was a moment before Brian realized he was the object of intense scrutiny. He met Justin’s crystalline blue eyes and smiled a half-smile. He hadn’t truly anticipated this turn of events, had thought the younger man would simply ask for his position back. Didn’t realize Justin simply wanted him back.

Knowing it wasn’t what he wanted to say but struggling to find an easy topic, Brian said, “You seen my tie anywhere?”

“Uh, yeah. I think it landed on the credenza behind your desk.” Justin suppressed a smile of his own.

Taking in the disarray of his office, Brian smiled genuinely. Lost in passion, articles of clothing had landed on various surfaces. Typical Justin-Brian behavior. He chuckled and realized that this aspect of their relationship would never change. “You know Cynthia wouldn’t tell me who my meeting was with tonight.”

“Yeah, I asked her not to. Figured you wouldn’t see me if you knew that it was me who requested the meeting.” Figured he didn't need to know that Cynthia had been positively gleeful about pulling one over on her boss. Justin secretly thought that Cynthia was half in love with Brian. Seemed he had that effect on the female population as well.

Brian stepped into his Armani slacks, not bothering with underwear, then reached for his shirt, leaving it partially unbuttoned. “You never know, Sunshine. After all I was the one who told you to have some balls.”

“I know.” Justin fell silent, remembering the kiss. Knowing that it had been more than a simple kiss, more a statement of intent.

Brian didn’t say anything, knowing that there was too much to say and not knowing how to begin. He knew they needed to talk as much as he hated the idea. Better to talk than to end up apart again, the victim of a fucking strolling violinist. He didn’t know if he could handle Justin leaving him again. Not even Michael knew he’d barely survived it. Had come close to breaking down and telling Justin he wanted him back, on whatever terms the younger man deemed appropriate. Even though it had been Justin’s cheating that had caused the rift and not his own detours into the backrooms. Don’t, he cautioned himself.

“So, what now?”

Trust it to the twink to break the uncomfortable silence, Brian thought, relieved.

Still he hesitated, and then glanced at Justin. “We go back to the loft.” He looked a question at Justin, half-expecting a no.

Justin couldn’t quite hide the fact that he was startled. He’d expected Brian to send him home not tell him they were going to the loft. He had no expectations that things would resume as if nothing had ever happened. As if Ethan had never happened. Neither one of them were that good of an actor. “Yeah.” He was careful not to sound too happy or relieved. He’d told Daphne that he wasn’t sure he’d be coming home that night. She'd given him a wink and warned him to be careful. But she liked Brian too. And she'd had the older man's number since day one.

Brian looked at the teen, realizing that he was looking at a man, not a kid. Justin had been a man from day one. “You have your job back.” Now why the fuck did I say that?

Shit. “That wasn’t why I came tonight, Brian. I didn’t sleep with you to get my job back.” God, I hope he believes that. I hope he doesn’t think I slept with him just to get the internship back.

“I know. Cynthia didn’t give the papers to Gardner. Guess she thought I’d come to my senses.” There were reasons Cynthia had lasted as his assistant for five years. Not the least of which was her unwavering loyalty and ability to predict his moods and, on occasion, cover his ass. Brian knew full well he wasn’t the easiest of bosses. Or lovers, he added silently.

Justin pulled on his sweater-shirt combination and looked at Brian. “If it’s going to be too weird for you having me around I can resign the internship. I don’t want to cause you any trouble here.”

Instead of addressing Justin’s concerns, he simply said, “Let’s get out of here. It’s been a long day.” Even longer night, I hope.

Justin waited as Brian straightened his desk, retrieved his suit jacket, and put several contracts in his attaché case. They were quiet on the ride down to the parking level. Brian was well aware of the tension lingering between the two of them, now that the cloud of post-coital bliss had evaporated. He was glad Justin had come back though he’d been bloody pissed when he’d appeared as an intern. He’d missed him though he was loath to admit it to anyone but himself. Not anyone’s fucking business that it hadn’t been business as usual for Brian Fucking Kinney.

Scanning the parking garage for the all too familiar Jeep, Justin was surprised to see a hunter green ’71 Corvette Sting Ray parked in the spot designated B. Kinney, Vanguard. “Hey, Brian, what happened to the jeep?”

Boyfriend replacement therapy, he thought. Aloud he simply said, “I’ve always wanted this car. So I sold the jeep.”

“When?” Justin was shocked. 

Everyone knew how much Brian had loved his jeep. Brian’s Fuckmobile, his friends called it. Everyone on Liberty Ave knew Brian Kinney had arrived when he pulled up in that jeep though it wasn’t exactly the sexiest of cars. This, however, was a dick on wheels. Looks like he had a little mini mid-life crisis of his own, Justin thought, not sure whether to be pleased or not. Acknowledging that he’d been affected proved that Brian was only human despite his avowals to the contrary. 

He casually studied Brian’s form noticing that the carefully tailored suit fit him just a little bit looser. Though Brian’d always been lean, there was a little less there than before. Not enough to make him look gaunt or increase his inherent androgyny, but enough that it was noticeable to those who knew him best. Had he been eating? Justin wondered, knowing that Brian forgot on the easiest of days, not to mention the rough ones, preferring to lose himself in Jim or Absolut. 

“Get in,” Brian said, putting his attaché case in the back seat. He figured Justin wouldn’t let the subject of his transportation drop so he was pleasantly surprised when the blond let the subject drop. It was only as they hit the street that he decided to answer, semi-honestly. “After the Carnivale. I took a percentage off the top. The car was my reward.” But I’d lost you, Sunshine.

“I never did thank you for that.”

“You did me a favor. I was kind of surprised when you didn’t tell me to fuck off.”

Another small, sad smile. “Yeah, well, I missed you.”

Me too, Sunshine. Me too. Then Justin continued, “Michael sure was happy to see I was gone. Told me I’d taken advantage of you and that I was an ungrateful little shit for leaving you after all you’d done for me.”

Fuckin’ Michael. Never will learn when to keep his big fuckin’ mouth shut. Brian felt his irritation rise, but the focus wasn’t Justin. He was pissed at Michael for butting in where he didn’t belong. “You didn’t. You weren’t. There weren’t any locks on our doors. You only did what I told you to do: got your needs met.” Hoped that Justin didn’t sense the hurt that lay underneath the blasé words.

“But I---” Justin started.

“You mind if we table this for a little while? Maybe until we get home?” Can’t do a major conversation while driving.

“Brian, what’s wrong?”

Fucker. Always so goddamn perceptive except about some of the most important things. Brian sighed. “Justin, I know we have things to talk about. Hell, I’m even willing to talk about some of them tonight. I just need some time to think.”

“Okay.” And he fell into silence for the remainder of the ride.

Twenty minutes later, they pulled into the parking garage at Brian’s building. Justin felt a sense of nervousness he hadn’t felt since that first night he’d come home with Brian, a kid scared shitless about his first sexual encounter with the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. Wondered if Brian had ever felt that way or if he’d simply gone into things with his eyes wide open. He wondered if Brian had ever been scared or if he’d simply embraced his life without a thought to consequence.

“You OK?” Brian asked, sensing something wasn’t quite right.

“I’m fine,” Justin said, following him to the freight elevator. 

“I can still take you to Daphne’s if you want,” Brian offered, knowing that he wanted Justin to stay.

“How’d you know I was at Daphne’s?”

Busted, he thought. “I had Cynthia pull a copy of your resume and cover letter. Nicely done, by the way. Very professional.” He knew full well that he’d helped Justin with that letter, helped him format his resume so that he could sell himself. Brian Kinney wasn’t an advertising god for nothing.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I recognized her address. Not a very safe part of town, is it?” Brian hadn’t wanted to accept the sense of relief he’d felt when he’d realized Justin had ended up at Daphne’s. More relieved than he was entitled to feel.

Justin didn’t rise to the bait. It was well known that Brian didn’t live in the best area for all of his money. “No, but it’s cheap.”

Brian hit the stop button on the elevator, a sudden action that had the old elevator grinding to an all too sudden halt, throwing him into Justin, so close he could smell the clean scent of Justin along with semen and cologne and shampoo. “Tell me now if you want to go home. I won’t be pissed.” Disappointed maybe, but not angry.

“I’m staying.”

The words were barely out of his mouth when Brian’s mouth covered his own. Brian pushed him back against the wall, his tongue mapping the inner regions of Justin’s. Felt a familiar tug and saw Justin’s hands making short work of the buttons he’d left undone in the haste to leave the office. Saw the flash of white against the darker tan of his skin and hissed. He stopped just long enough to say, mouth hot against Justin’s ear, “Last chance, Sonny boy. I want to fuck you all night long. Just not in the elevator.” He wanted him in the bed, writhing underneath him, calling out his name in the throes of orgasm.

Brian’s hazel eyes were dark, almost black. It had been a long time since Justin had seen him nearly insensate with need. If one could bottle Brian and sell him as a sex drug, they’d make a fucking billion. “I’m coming and staying,” Justin said, aware of the significance of his words. He was aware of Brian’s reaction as the man’s hand slammed down on the go button, throwing them into motion again.

“Christ, Brian,” Justin whispered. 

Brian bent down to retrieve the attaché case. The elevator came to a halt and they stepped out onto the landing. Both were well aware of the last time they’d stood outside these doors. Brian making a point not to remember, Justin lost in regret. Regret that he hadn’t stayed, hadn’t fought more for their relationship ---whatever the hell it was. Brian fumbled for his keys, realizing with aggravation that he was nervous. And Brian Aidan Kinney didn’t do nervous. That was for other people, people who were weaker. People who weren’t Brian Fucking Kinney.

Finally unlocking the door, he slid it open, motioning for Justin to go inside first. That in itself was a first. Usually Brian remained in control from start to finish. Something about tonight was different. A subtle change had occurred but Justin’s couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was. Brian seemed different.

“You want a drink?” He asked, as he moved towards the drink cart. 

Justin watched as Brian poured himself a double Beam, took a deep swallow, and then turned back to him. “Are you hungry?” Fuck, this was hard and not in a positive, good way, he thought.

“A little.” It was a running joke that he was always hungry. It helped to ease the tension that ran through the loft.

“This OK?” Brian asked, hating that he was nervous. This was Justin after all. And then it dawned on him, this was Justin. And he wasn’t running back to Ethan. He was really here, not some $300 an hour impersonator. Here within his grasp.

“Yeah, fine.”

Before either of them could say anything else, Brian’s phone rang. Sending an apologetic look Justin’s direction, Brian said, “Hello.”

Pause.

“Mikey, this isn’t a good time.” He looked at Justin. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow at the diner. Yeah, breakfast.”

Breaking the connection, Brian turned the ringer off and to Justin’s amazement did the same thing to the answering machine. That was something he rarely if ever did. Closing out the outside world.

“What if Lindz needs to get in touch with you?”

“She can wait. Or try my cell phone.”

Justin sat down on the sofa, realizing that Brian had seemingly thought of everything. “Can I have a beer?”

Draining the tumbler of Beam, he nodded. “Heineken or Dos Equis Amber?”

Justin smiled. His lover always would have expensive taste. Brian would never change. “Dos Equis.”

He looked out the window, feeling his pulse begin to even out. It was difficult being in such close proximity to Brian. A bit uncomfortable too which was odd considering that it wasn’t too long ago that Brian had fucked him into near unconsciousness three times at the office. He’d be surprised if he didn’t have rug burns on his ass.

“You sure you’re OK? You’re so quiet it’s starting to freak me out.” Brian handed him his beer.

“Just a little strange being here,” Justin admitted, taking a draught from his beer.

And so it begins, Brian thought. Having a feeling he’d have reason to regret it, he sat down on the sofa next to him. “Why?” For the first time that night sex was not his priority. Justin was.

“Because of what happened with the fiddler?” He knew he had a name, even knew what it was but he’d be damned if he’d call him by name. To name the enemy gave him power.

Justin wasn’t able to hide the pain and hurt like Brian. But Brian had had decades to develop that particular mastery. He had needed to hide behind the curtains. “Yeah, because of Ethan.” Pretended not to notice the brief lightning flash of pain in the depths of Brian’s eyes.

“You want to do this on an empty stomach?” Because he sure as hell didn’t. He didn’t want to do any of this, but knew it was necessary.

“No.” I don’t want to talk about Ethan or how I hurt you. 

Justin knew they needed to talk. He was just surprised it was Brian’s choice to talk. The older man had never given him much of an opportunity to emote, preferring to simply kiss or fuck him into complacency. Seemed Brian had finally come to the realization that wasn’t the way to go. Justin knew Brian had feelings but he kept them locked up so tight that his friends were likely to forget or deny that they even existed.

Brian looked at Justin with a strange expression on his face and he realized that Brian must have been talking to him. Justin glanced at him sheepishly. “Sorry, Brian. I think I missed what you said.”

“Not important. I’m gonna order us some food.”

While he waited for Brian to order, Justin took the time to glance around the loft. Brian had made a few changes, most noticeably the Mies van der Rohe coffee table and replacing the familiar blue neon tubing with a single fixture backlit with an orange glow. He liked it though he'd liked the way Brian looked when the blue light hit him just right, liked fucking underneath it.

“Food should be here in about forty minutes,” Brian informed him. His words were rewarded with a luminous smile. The smile couldn’t but warm Brian.

The feeling quickly faded as the expression on Justin’s face darkened. Uh oh, Brian thought. To avoid the inevitable, he said, brusquely, ignoring the expression on Justin’s face, “I’m gonna go take a shower. There’s cash in my wallet. Just make sure the delivery guy didn’t forget my sesame noodles.”

Despite his suddenly mercurial mood, Justin smiled. There would be hell to pay if Johnny, the delivery guy, forgot Brian’s noodles. “Yeah, I know.”

Brian turned away, heading towards the bathroom, when he suddenly turned back. His words came as a surprise, “I know we need to talk. And I have things I need to tell you and I need you to hear them.” His voice was quiet and he knew that he was going to have to be honest if he didn’t want this to be fucked up again. Even if he couldn’t define what this was. 

He didn’t think he could stand it if he lost Justin again. It fucking sucks to be this emotionally tied to someone, he thought, realizing anew that it was why he always kept his heart under such tight control. He wondered when the trick had become something more and knew if he carefully examined things that it had been that first night, when he’d let Justin name his son. He wouldn’t have taken a mere trick with him but somehow the beauty of the young blond had touched him in ways that he’d thought impossible. Justin had reminded him that he had a heart.

Justin, sitting on the sofa in the living room, heard the water turn on and wondered had there not been a pending food delivery if Brian would have invited him to join him. That, of almost anything, had been among the things that Justin missed the most. Ethan’s shower had been tiny and cramped, just room for one person. Of course, he’d also missed Brian in other more important ways. Missed how Brian would talk to him about art and make subtle suggestions that actually made things better. Despite his protestations to the contrary, Brian did care about things and had an artistic eye. Missed how Brian instinctively knew when he was going to have a migraine. Missed how Brian protected him at Babylon when the crowd got too much. Missed just being with Brian more than he’d thought possible. Shit, how could I have thought that Ethan ever loved me more than Brian? Justin thought. 

Lost in thoughts, he heard the intercom buzz and then crossed to the intercom, saying only, “Come on up. Sixth floor.” He assumed it was the delivery guy. An assumption he’d soon have cause to regret.

Brian stood in the shower soaping himself and couldn’t help but wonder what the hell he was doing. He was nearly thirty-two, after all, and was beginning to acknowledge the ramifications of growing old. Older, he amended. He turned the water off with a savage twist of his wrist. 

It hadn’t taken a genius to see that he was hurting over losing Justin. Lindsay had insisted that he could get him back but he had his pride. Michael had said he must love the kid when he knocked him out at Lindz and Mel’s anniversary party. Hell, he’d even admitted it to Deb. Admitted it on the floor at Babylon when he agreed to those fucking ridiculous rules. Rules he had agreed to for the sake of a blossoming relationship. Rules he had agreed to because he'd nearly lost Justin and it had left him broken. Dismissing thoughts of the past, he reached for a towel and wrapped it around his waist.

Not much point in getting dressed, he thought. He returned to the bedroom and stopped short when he heard raised voices.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” 

And in an instant Brian realized that Michael had stopped by. Michael was the king of unannounced visits but he couldn’t have picked a worse occasion to do so. Michael must have realized that something seemed off with his best friend and decided to investigate. Goddammit. Brian had hoped to have a little bit more time with Justin. Just the two of them without outside forces stepping in to fuck with them.

He hesitated, waiting to see what Justin’s response would be. “I’m here with ---.”

Michael’s tone was venomous and came as a complete surprise to Brian. “Here to fuck Brian over again. You ungrateful little twat. He should never have let you move in. Shouldn’t have saved you. Hell, he even paid your tuition at PIFA. How’d you talk him into doing that? You’ve been nothing but trouble since day one. Your dad could have fucking killed him. You walked out on him in front of over five hundred people. It would have been easier to just say fuck you.”

Brian closed his eyes. And a lot more private, he acknowledged. Shit, shit, shit. Don’t do this, Michael. Don’t make me choose. You won’t like the choice I’ll make. He dropped the towel to the floor and pulled on a comfortable old black wife-beater and a pair of grey sweatpants that he’d never wear out of the loft, had probably never even see the light of day. Realized that his choice of attire was not likely to be of much comfort to his best friend but, at the moment, that was the least of his concerns. Realized that he looked like he'd just been fucking, like it was that first morning all over again. Only this time Justin wasn't a naive seventeen-year-old kid and he wasn't in any hurry to have him out of his loft.

“Mikey,” Brian said in a low, cold controlled voice. He walked down the stairs, deliberately coming to stand between his best friend and Justin.

“Brian, what the fuck is he doing here?” Michael had noticed the position Brian had adopted, standing between he and Justin, his stance putting him closer to Justin. How can he take this lying, cheating twink back? Michael would never understand Justin and Brian’s relationship, would always want Brian for himself, even when it was crystal clear that Brian wanted Justin. That on some fundamental level, Brian needed Justin. It burned him that it wasn't him, would never be him. 

“So many ways to answer that question. Here’s one: Who I fuck is none of your goddamn business unless it’s you I’m fucking.” Knew that was hitting Michael below the belt but Brian was in no mood to salve his friend’s insecurities. "And I offered. You turned me down." He pointed out.

“Brian,” Michael’s voice changed into a whine. The whine had been cute at fourteen but at nearly thirty-two it was downright creepy. “He’s just going to take advantage of you again. Now that the fiddler’s out of the picture. He’s just here because he got hurt.” Never mind the fact that he knew that it would have destroyed their friendship if they'd slept together. That they’d have both resented each other and it wouldn’t have solved anything.

“No, ” Justin began, looking at Brian. “I’m not here because of Ethan. Ethan was a mistake.”

“So Brian’s a consolation prize, your rebound fuck. How long are you going to stick around this time? Just until you meet a nice artistic guy who paints you pictures and tells you he loves you? Gives you flowers and chocolate? How long until you leave him again, heartbroken and disillusioned?

Justin was speechless. He’d known Michael disliked him but he’d thought he’d gotten over his initial feelings. Christ, didn’t he know that he wasn’t going anywhere? It took a moment for him to realize that Michael knew about his complaint about the lack of Brian's romantic side. Then he regained his power of speech, “Brian’s first prize. Too many people in his life have made him feel second rate. I’m not going to be one of them. Again. Brian’s not a rebound. And whatever is between he and I is between us, Michael. It really doesn’t concern you.”

Michael glared at him, white with suppressed anger. “The hell it doesn’t. You’re using him. You’re a fucking whore. He’s not your personal dildo. I’m his fucking best friend.”

Having had enough, Brian turned to his best friend, seeing that it was time to make things crystal clear to Michael.

“You may be my best friend, Michael, but Justin is still in my life. You don’t have the right to come in here and verbally abuse him. Not in my-our home.” Not anywhere. Not ever. How fucking dare you?! “And I’m the one fucking him, not you,” he pointed out. “A lot. I’m good at it,” he said, the taunt deliberate.

“Brian.” Michael began to protest. Then it dawned on him what Brian had said, Our home? What the fuck is up with that?


	2. Finding a Way Back

"Fuck off,” Brian’s tone was dangerously low and very tightly controlled. Justin could see the muscle twitching in his jaw and knew that in an instant Brian would reach his flashpoint. He’d just never seen it directed this obviously at Michael. “Get the fuck out, Michael.”

Michael knew it was bad when Brian called him by his given name. He also knew that he’d pushed his best friend a little too far. “You’re making a mistake,” he said, as he headed towards the open loft door. “You’ll see that I’m right.” That was his parting shot.

Brian followed after him and said to Michael’s retreating back, “Call first the next time. And Michael, if you do this again I want my fucking key back. Got it?”

Stunned, Michael could only nod. Justin was as surprised as Michael but for different reasons. “Asshole.”

Brian slammed the loft door so hard that a framed picture jumped in place. He turned to Justin with a murderous glint in his eyes. Justin tensed, ready for a verbal blow because Brian would never hurt him physically, at least not outside of rough sexual play. “How long has this been going on?”

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb, Sunshine. You got a fucking 1500 on your goddamn SATs. How long has this been going on?”

Sensing it was better he answer than play nonchalant, Justin said, "He told me that I was an ungrateful little shit and I should leave because I was no longer part of the family. Said that I’d used you.”

Fuck. No wonder the kid’s been scared to talk to me and been posturing like he has, Brian thought. Michael’s been busting his balls ever since we broke up. “Since before the Rage party?”

“Yeah. Michael saw me with Ethan when we were putting up the posters for the party and put two and two together and got ---.”

“Five.” Brian supplied, his anger beginning to abate a little. “Goddammit, Justin, why didn’t you tell me?”

Justin smiled sadly. “I’ve got to learn to do things on my own. I didn’t want to come to you crying ‘cause Michael was being an asshole to me.”

“Christ. Son of a fucking bitch,” Brian cursed. Then he looked at Justin. “You should have told me.”

“Have to fight my own battles. And it really hasn’t been that bad.”

An arched eyebrow was the response to the last comment. “I know you can handle it yourself. Michael has no reason to treat you like shit.” Even if he is jealous and my best friend .

The last thing he expected was for Justin to laugh so hard tears sprang to his eyes. “Bri, he’s loved you for sixteen years. He’s watched you behave in ways that he didn’t know you could behave. And he saw me walk out on you at a party you’d thrown in our honor, for me. Michael has a few reasons to be pissed.”

“But what happens to us stays between us,” Brian protested.

“We’re not Vegas. And Liberty Ave. is a small town, Brian. You think I didn’t hear the whispers after Ethan and I broke up when I turned up in the backroom? Look it’s Kinney’s Little Boy Lost. Wonder if the King of Babylon knows that his twink has come home. Christ, Brian, you’d have thought Rage died when JT left him.”

Brian grimaced. That hit a little too close to home. But even when they’d been apart, he’d stuck to one rule: the no kissing rule. It just hadn’t felt right kissing anyone other than Justin. Why bother when you’ve had the best? He’d heard the whispers too. Knew that Justin wasn’t exaggerating. People knew that he and Justin were together, knew when not to fuck with them. He’d known when Justin returned to the backroom but it had still been a shock to see him fucking the shit out of the young Latino, knowing that they were both wishing that they were with each other. Hell, he’d gotten off on that, seeing Justin in control, driving his cock in and out of the young trick, watching his strokes become more shallow. It had been the incentive for his own orgasm, watching Justin’s body shudder as he came. “I’ve never said you were my property, Justin.” Never would. Too fucking medieval.

“I know that, Brian. But you know it eliminates a lot of problems when the guys know that I’m with Brian Kinney.”

“Didn’t think that mattered to you.” He paused, then said, with a lingering trace of hurt, “Being with Brian Kinney, that is.”

Justin sighed, a sound that reminded Brian of his own. Made him wonder what else his young lover had picked up from him. Didn’t exactly make him happy thinking that some of his less desirable traits might have rubbed off on Justin. The last thing the world needed was another Brian Kinney. “Of course, it mattered. You’ve always mattered to me.”

“Is that why you went to Kip and blackmailed him into dropping the suit?” Brian asked, arching a perfectly shaped brow.

“Fuck,” Justin said, quietly. He hadn’t expecting the opening gambit to be about Kip Thomas, of all people. “Who told you?”

“I figured it out all by my little self,” Brian said, sarcastically. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Justin leaned back against the sofa, close enough that Brian could touch him. He turned so he met Brian’s hazel eyes with his own. “You’d have been fucking pissed. You didn’t want me around back then and you would have assumed I’d done it out of some misguided attempt to grab your attention, to keep you indebted to me. I knew how difficult it was for you to ask Mel for help. I knew that your career was on the line. And I just wanted to do something to help you.”

“I didn’t need your goddamn help. Yeah, I would’ve been pissed. Do you know how dangerous that was?” Underneath the anger was a thin layer of worry and, yes, fear. “What if he’d gone to the cops?” Then a new thought occurred to him and he asked, “Did you fuck him?” He wasn’t sure which bothered him more the thought that Justin had gone to Kip on his behalf without concern for his own safety or the fact that he might have been fucked by his two-time bad mistake. For some reason, the mere thought made his stomach turn. 

Justin simply looked at him. “Brian, I was seventeen and so in love with you that I couldn’t see straight. And you didn’t exactly want me around, saw me as a convenient fuck. I knew the risk I was taking. I didn’t think he’d go to the cops, want to admit that he’d picked up an underage trick.” Then, he quietly said, addressing Brian’s last and most important question, “No, I did not fuck him. He gave me head, a very brief, bad blow job that meant absolutely nothing. I’ve jerked off with more finesse than Kip had. But, then, you should know that, seeing as you fucked him twice.”

Brian sat back, then suddenly stood, walking to the drink cart. He picked up the bottle of Jim Beam, then looked back at Justin, saw the expression in the clear blue eyes. He gingerly set it back down. For some reason, he didn’t want to do this drunk though he knew it would numb the pain. He wondered briefly how Justin could know him so well and yet not know him at all. Wondered why Justin thought he was only a convenient fuck at that point. Because I never gave him a reason to know different. Even after I took him home on his eighteenth birthday. I never made a point to let him know that he’d stopped being a trick a long time ago. That he was more than that to me.

“You want to know the truth, Sunshine?” Christ, this would be so much fucking easier if I was drunk or high. 

Brian paced the length of the loft, finally coming back to stand in front of the refrigerator, staring at the closed door as if it were Pandora’s Box and it was just waiting to be opened. Before he could say anything, they heard the buzz of the downstairs intercom. Saved by the fucking bell, he thought, irreverently.

He cast a look in Justin’s direction, saw the guarded look in Justin’s blue eyes. But he didn’t say anything, merely crossed to the intercom, and buzzed the delivery guy up. This was familiar territory. But he remembered the last time they’d eaten together, the tension between them so volatile Brian had thought he’d explode. But of course he’d made that stupid fucking speech about how there were no locks on their doors, how they were each free to go, how it was an open relationship. He’d never guessed that Justin would be the one to walk through the door. Had thought he was enough for the young blond despite not being able to give him the one thing he had wanted so desperately. For Brian to tell him he loved him. And Brian did, he just couldn’t verbalize the words. 

He rifled through his wallet, finally pulling out two bills that would cover the cost of the food and a generous tip. Wondered briefly if he was going to have to start stocking real food again. The contents of his refrigerator had returned to pre-Justin days: poppers, guava juice, soy milk, beer and an avocado. He heard the knock on the door and slid the door open, handing the two bills to Johnny, who noticed the blond on the sofa, wisely not saying anything. “Thanks, Mr. Kinney,” Johnny said. His English was improving. 

Brian nodded. “Sesame noodles are in here, right?”

Johnny nodded. Then turned to walk down the stairs. Brian briefly watched him descend then slid the loft door closed. Alone at last. He wondered if there’d be any more interruptions that evening. He knew that the instant Michael had left he’d been on the phone to Emmett and Deb, complaining about Brian’s perceived slight.

“We gonna eat at the counter?” Justin spoke quietly, the words intruding into Brian’s thoughts.

Expression stormy, Brian said, “There’s an extra blanket in the closet. Why don’t you get that down and we’ll eat on the floor.” Words spoken deliberately and eyes met as understanding dawned. Eating dinner on the floor and fucking on the floor of Brian’s office were significant to both of them, for far different reasons.

Wisely Justin didn’t say anything. He just walked up the stairs to the bedroom and slid open the partition that enclosed the closet. He was surprised to see that Brian’s expensive couturiere items were still pushed to one side of the closet, and that there was still space on the floor for extra shoes. Shit, Justin thought, absurdly touched. He retrieved the blanket, not noticing the framed picture that was suddenly revealed.

“You want another beer?” Brian spoke from behind him and Justin nodded.

He returned to the living room and set the blanket down on the floor. “You want utensils or do you want to try eating like a grown-up with chopsticks?” Brian teased, from where he stood at the door of the fridge.

“Fuck you, Brian. You know it’s hard for me to eat with chopsticks because of my hand.” Yet another legacy of the attack, Justin thought bitterly.

“Sorry. Sorry.” Brian had forgotten. He hadn’t spoken the words to injure or wound. “I’ll get you a knife and fork. And plates.” I’ll be damned if I get duck sauce on the hardwood floor.

It was a few minutes later that they were reclining on the floor, Brian’s lanky form taking up more room than Justin’s smaller one. “You know, this is the first time we’ve done this.” Justin spoke softly, not wanting to throw the mood of the evening off.

“Yeah, I know.” He paused, before saying, “Hand me the noodles, please.”

Justin handed him the carton of sesame noodles, feeling the electrical charge as their fingers brushed each other. Brian took a bite of the noodles, watching as Justin dug into the carton of sesame chicken. Now or never, he guessed. “Do you want to talk now or after we eat?”

A look of amazement crossed Justin’s face. Brian smiled wryly. “I hadn’t forgotten, Sunshine. I did make a promise.” Which I never do.

“Your call.” Words chosen deliberately. It didn’t escape Justin’s attention that Brian looked wounded. And when wounded he tended to strike, quick and viciously, like a snake.

Brian smiled. “Christ, we have a dysfunctional fucking relationship. It’s no wonder everybody wonders what we’re doing together.” He looked at Justin. Then continued, “But we know. And that’s the important thing. We know why we’re together.”

“Are we? Together, that is?”

Pause.

“I don’t know,” Brian admitted. “I do know that I’m happier when I’m with you. Somehow you just brighten my days. And this place is fucking lonely without you in it. I got a note from Lupe asking me when the young Mr. Taylor was coming home. Do you know what it’s like to be with someone and then have him just walk away?”

Yeah, I do. I know what it’s like to have someone walk out on you because they feel the walls closing in around them. Did he just admit we were together, because it sure didn’t feel like it at that party. Felt like we'd never been further apart. It was a long moment before Justin could bring himself to speak, “Brian, I want a second chance on us. No rules. No boundaries. No expectations. Just whatever you can give.”

“Fuck me,” Brian said, as his hand darted out for the carton of sesame noodles. Had it ever occurred to Justin that wasn't what he wanted? That maybe he wanted more from the second time? That playing all the time didn't necessarily make him the happiest?

He saw the confused expression on Justin’s face. Then hurried to explain, “I kept all the rules, Justin. You know, I never thought I’d be the one to take them seriously. But I did. I kept the no names, no numbers policy. I can’t say that I held to the “no fucking the same trick twice” rule but I did not kiss anyone else. It just didn’t feel right. And, hell, I guess I always thought you’d come back through that door eventually. Just needed to find your own way back.”

“Brian, I never meant to hurt you. Ethan threw a lot of pretty words my way. Gave me a fucking ring that didn’t mean anything. I’m not asking you for that. He asked me for forgiveness.”

“For what?” Brian scowled. He’d hated seeing Justin with that ring. Not because he’d wanted to give the teen one but because he knew it was a hollow symbol if the meaning didn’t exist. Plus, it felt as if he’d been stabbed with an ice pick.

“He fucked one of his groupies,” Justin felt his face color. “Then he came to our door one night with a dozen roses. Christ, I felt like a fucking idiot.”

Brian couldn’t help it, he began to laugh uncontrollably. “What the fuck is so funny?” Justin demanded.

“Violinists with groupies,” Brian choked out, over his laughter.

“Yeah, I know. Fucked up, isn’t it?”

Brian nodded. “Just a little bit. So why didn’t you? Forgive him, that is? You forgave me all the time.”

Justin set down the carton of sesame chicken. Moved a little closer to Brian, so he could look directly into the man’s hazel eyes. “I never forgave you. You never did anything I had to forgive. You never lied to me. You're not gonna tell me I deserved it? That it was some turn of the karmic wheel?”

“No. Justin, you deserved better than that. He promised you something. I will never lie to you.” Brian hesitated. “You sure, you want to do this again? I’d understand if you just walked out that door.”

“I know who you are. I know the Brian Kinney Operating Manual. I just forgot for a little while. The question is: can you forgive me?”

“Sunshine, we all make mistakes.” Kip, the hustler, Chicago. Christ, the list goes on and on. “But you learned from it.”

Justin nodded. “Yeah, I learned what I really wanted. Who I really wanted.”

“Taking a chance, aren’t we?”

“I think you’re worth it.”

Brian took another couple bites of sesame chicken then set his beer down. “The night you wanted to have your picnic I was an asshole.” He waited for Justin to say something, but the teen just looked at him, waiting patiently for him to go on. “Michael had called me earlier that day when I was supposed to give a pitch. He told me that Ben had collapsed in the middle of a lecture and he needed me to come down to the hospital. I left the office, had Gardner reschedule the pitch, and met Michael at the hospital. He thanked me for coming and I reminded him that it was him who sat with me for three days in the hospital corridor, waiting for some news on whether or not you were gonna make it. He missed his flight with David to Portland to come sit with me.” He looked at Justin. “Michael was there for me at a point where I didn’t know if I was going to make it if you didn’t pull through.”

“You never told me,” Justin said, in a near whisper.

“Never got the chance. When I came in that night, I needed to unwind. So I was unnecessarily snarky. You wanted to have some romantic time with me and I couldn’t deal with it. I just kept remembering sitting in that hospital waiting for some news that your mom would decide she’d parcel out to me. So I bailed on you.”

“Pain management.”

“Yeah, pain management. Bet you didn’t know that I was there every night. I’d watch you sleeping, see you caught in some nightmare, hear you call me, and I couldn’t do a fucking think about it.” He remembered losing himself in a blow job, knowing in the back of his mind he’d really wanted Justin. That it was Justin’s mouth he’d wanted on him.

Justin’s breath caught. Brian was there? “You were there? Outside my hospital room? Christ, Brian, why didn’t you ever say anything?” Do you know how many nights I thought I could hear your voice or smell your cologne, and thought I was going fucking crazy?

“Cause I couldn’t do anything to fix it. Justin, you needed something I couldn’t give. Your mom knew though. It’s what she wanted to talk to me about that day outside the town house.”

Justin remembered. He remembered how angry he’d been when he and Daphne had been shunted off into the house, like two disobedient children so the adults could talk. He and Daphne had watched from the window as Brian had turned and looked back at the house from his jeep, before driving off. He’d seen how broken Brian looked. How vulnerable. They’d needed each other back then despite everything that was working against them.

“Mom knew?” 

“Yeah, Jennifer knew. She also knew that I didn’t want anyone to know, even you. Especially you.” Cause it was a clear signal that I love you.

“Any other surprises?”

“A few. Help me put up the food and we’ll talk some more.” This isn’t as painful as I thought it would be.

Justin picked up their plates and the set of intricately carved chopsticks, following Brian into the kitchen. They put the cartons in the fridge silently, Justin noticing the meager contents, making a silent note to go to the market. Then Justin hand-washed the chopsticks setting them carefully in the drain board. “You didn’t forget,” Brian remarked.

“No. They’re beautiful, Brian. And too delicate to risk in an overheated environment where they might shatter.”

His words meant to encompass more than the chopsticks. 

Brian stopped and turned to him. “Justin, you have to know that it’s not gonna be easy. I can’t promise you monogamy. I’m just not built that way. If I bail on you sometimes, you’ve gotta know it’s not because I don’t care.”

“I know. So are we going to tell everyone or play this closer to home until we’ve figured things out?”

“Michael kind of put the kibosh on keeping things quiet. But I’m okay with waiting a few days before we take the Brian and Justin show on the road again. Spending some time together outside the backroom won’t hurt either of us.” He was kind of looking forward to becoming intimately reacquainted with the blond before returning to Babylon.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I think we have a miracle. Brian Kinney saying that he’s willing to forgo the backroom of Babylon,” Justin teased. He stole a look at Brian, relieved to see that his lover’s expression was amused rather than pissed. “And what about work?”

Brian tensed. That was one area where they’d have to be extremely careful. “Cynthia knows and she can run interference. But technically I’m your boss so at work you’re gonna have to remember to call me Mr. Kinney and not call me on things you might here at home. I don’t want your internship to be jeopardized because you’re fucking the boss---”

“I’m fucking business,” Justin said, then remembered the circumstances the words had last been spoken.

“No, you’re fucking me." Brian gently corrected. Then continued, "There’s just a thin line between business and Brian. Justin, you’ve got to remember that the person I am at work isn’t the person I am at home. I have to behave in a certain fashion in the professional arena.”

Justin snorted. “Uh huh. So the arrogance, cockiness, and charisma are a work thing? And fucking the clients?”

A smile, slow and gentle with the promise of wicked things crossed Brian’s face. “No, those are all me. And they’re part of the reason you love me.” Turned more serious, "And I haven't fucked a client in a long time."

Justin hadn’t spoken the words in months. Even to Ethan. It just hadn’t felt right saying them to the violinist even though Ethan was fairly effusive in his expression of his feelings. To hear Brian say it was startling. Even more startling was the fact that he seemed accepting and hadn’t ground the words out like it hurt him physically to do so. Has he really changed? Or does he just want me back so he’s willing to change into what he thinks I want him to be?

“Hey, put the gerbil back in its cage,” Brian’s words jolted Justin out of his thoughts. “So do you want to keep talking or do you want me to fuck you into the mattress sometime tonight?”

Justin smiled, a smile that reminded Brian why he’d been dubbed Sunshine by Debbie. “Chicago. Then you can fuck me into the mattress. Or I can fuck you into the mattress.”

It had been a long time since they’d exchanged that kind of sexual repartee with an inevitable follow through. “Maybe, baby, I’ve got you.” Brian said, earning another smile.

“You really can’t do James Gandolfini, Bri.”

“What do you expect from an Irishman?” Then he turned serious, “Can you turn off the lights and set the alarm?”

“Code still the same?”

“Yeah. And I didn’t change the locks so your key should still work. You are coming home, right?” Brian asked. Even if Justin wasn’t it wouldn’t change anything but he’d thought the younger man would want to come back to the loft. He didn’t have fond memories of living in cheap, cramped apartments. It was why he’d nearly sold his soul to get the loft, and been so relieved when it was finally his.

Justin hesitated, knowing that Brian would catch on. “Uh, I think I should stay at Daphne’s. Her roommate moved out to live with her boyfriend and she’s having a little difficulty with the rent. And it’s close to PIFA.”

“I see.” It was clear from the expression in Brian's eyes that he didn't.

“Brian, it’s not that I don’t want to live with you. You know I do. It’s just that I think it’s good for us to each have our space. I mean you don’t want me to be here if you bring a trick home. And there are nights when you have to work late and---” His words were cut off by a brutal kiss that had Justin reeling, struggling to catch his breath.

“You will spend four or six nights here, right? And you’ll cook because man can’t live on take-out alone.” Then Brian realized what he was saying. It sounded like he wanted Justin back for superficial reasons. Or as his wife. Whatever the fuck. That wasn’t the case. 

“You won’t starve. Maybe I’ll cook my jambalaya for you sometime this week.”

“Remind me to take my Pepcid.” He looked at Justin, expression turning serious. “Did the tricks really bother you that much?”

“You want an honest answer?”

A curt nod. 

“Not so much the tricks. Just walking in on you fucking someone else. Like when I returned from---”

“Vermont. Christ, Justin, you wouldn’t even let me explain. But it’s my fucking home. And why is it different here than in the backroom? Or in the baths?”

If Brian couldn’t understand the difference they were fucked, Justin thought. But he said only, “Exactly. It’s your home, Bri. That’s part of the reason it doesn’t feel right me just moving straight back in. Whatever is gonna happen to us, the loft is yours not mine.”

“I worked my ass off to get it, Justin. To prove that I wasn’t gonna end up like my old man.”

“Hey. I’m not criticizing or complaining. Just pointing out that it is your home. Not saying that it should be anything different.”

Easing down a bit on his temper, Brian said, “No more Hotlanta’s, then. Or zucchini guys. At least unless they’re previously cleared by both of us. And how about I make damn sure that I change the sheets after a trick. I spend enough on dry-cleaning without constantly worrying about the cum stains.”

Surprised, Justin could only nod. It was a huge concession Brian was making. A signal that Justin was more important than the seemingly endless stream of tricks. Brian opened a drawer and removed a carved wooden box that looked antique. Curious, he watched as Brian carefully lifted the lid and then removed a gift-wrapped box. Brian hadn’t ever really given him a gift, at least not in a way that merited any sort of presentation.

“Don’t overreact,” Brian said. That was like telling Mount Pele not to erupt. But amazingly enough Justin was silent. “I got this for you in Chicago. I never really found the right time to give it to you. Things were so goddamned strained between us after the trip.” Then Ethan happened, he thought bitterly. He remembered how he’d never forget walking into the empty loft. It had hurt more than he’d anticipated that Justin had gone on to Vermont without him, albeit alone. He’d known then that Justin would be fine on his own. That one day, the blond might simply decide he’d had enough and walk out the door for good. At the time, he hadn’t been concerned about self-fulfilling prophecies.

He handed the box to Justin, then gestured to the sofa, a clear indication that he didn’t want to do this standing up. “Brian, you didn’t have to do this.”

“I know.” But I wanted to. I wanted to show you how much you mean to me even if I can’t say it to you.

Adopting their familiar positions on the Italian leather Moda sofa, it was Brian’s turn to wait. Justin carefully un-wrapped the box and lifted the lid. He couldn’t suppress his gasp as he saw what was nestled inside. It was a pendant. The pendant was a platinum cowry shell on a fragile silver chain. “Brian, it’s beautiful.”

Yeah, it is. So are you, Sunshine. But he simply nodded. Caught Justin’s eyes and saw a look of ineffable sadness in them. Then Justin asked the inevitable question, “Why don’t you wear your bracelet anymore?”

Brian felt a bit relieved, he’d been expecting a question of a more probing nature. Michael had asked him but he’d blown it off, not sure that his best friend would really understand the motivation. Justin would understand. He’d understood why Brian wore the bloody scarf close to his skin as a reminder of what had happened. He’d get this. “I’ve worn that bracelet for over ten years. When John stole it and accused me of fondling him, it became tainted.” Not to mention it was a part of his fuck-me armor. But he continued, “You were one of the few people who believed in me. Even though we weren’t together you had enough faith in me to know that I wouldn’t have done what John accused me of. That despite everything that has been said about us, I’m not a pederast. You came to return it and tied it on my wrist, and all I could think about was you touching me. It wasn’t about the fucking bracelet. It was all about you. I wanted you to come inside so naturally I reminded you of Ian. And you left. I couldn’t bear to wear the bracelet anymore. Besides, don’t you think I’m a little too old for it?”

Justin laughed. “Never too old. You’re Peter Pan, Bri.” Then he turned serious, “I’ve always believed in you. You’ve always been there for me even when you didn’t have to be, like coming after me in New York, like coming to the prom. You may bitch and moan but you care about your friends.”

“You’re more than just a friend, Justin. No matter what happens between us, I want you to know that you can always come to me. I’ll always be here for you.” Somehow Justin had made it on a very short, select list of people Brian would sacrifice his pride for: Lindsay, Gus, Michael, and Justin. Though lately it seemed Justin came before Michael. Maybe I am growing up, he thought and strangely enough the thought didn’t terrify him as much as it used to. 

“Bri, I need you to know that I’ll always be there for you. That no matter what, if you need me I’ll be there.”

“I know that.” He leaned closer to Justin and brushed a soft kiss on the blond’s lips, breaking away before he was consumed with passion that he couldn’t restrain. Then he said, “I need to tell you about Chicago, don’t I? And why I didn’t join you in Vermont.” Christ, I need a fucking drink. Hell, I need the whole bottle. He’d never even told Michael what he’d had planned for him and Justin in Vermont. Had figured that it was between them, nobody’s business but his and Justin’s. Just like when he told Justin about the White Party it would be between them. And he’d never gotten the opportunity to discuss it with Justin because things were bad and then the hustler and Ethan had happened.

“We don’t have to talk about Chicago tonight, Brian. Not if you don’t want to.” Justin knew the toll this was taking on his lover. 

Talking was never easy for Brian, it left you too open to hurt and pain. Justin wanted time to revel in the fact that Brian had bought him a very meaningful gift. It was a seemingly out of character thing for Brian to do but strangely enough it fit it with the times he’d come home to find his art supplies replenished or a new computer graphics program installed on his computer. Simple, practical, yet loving things that Brian had done for him without an overflow of emotion or expectations of praise. Things that were indicative of how Brian felt even if he didn’t say it. Why didn’t I recognize that? Justin wondered.


	3. Finding a Way Back

**Author's Note:** I'm still trying to get my feet wet when writing m/m sex scenes so advice is welcomed, as are reviews! Thanks!

* * *

Brian stood and walked over to stand in front of the window, staring out at the Pittsburgh skyline. It was a familiar pose, Brian’s favorite thinking or brooding position. Without saying anything, Justin crossed to the drink cart. He uncapped the bottle of Beam, poured an inch into a cut crystal tumbler and handed it to Brian, wordlessly returning to the sofa.

“I think I need to do this,” he said. He set the glass down on the ledge and turned back to face Justin. “Guess it’s a damn good thing tomorrow’s Saturday, Sunshine,” he said, dryly. 

It had been a deliberate choice when he’d opted to meet with Brian on a Friday night when they wouldn’t have to face each other at the office the next day if things went badly. “Yeah.”

Christ, this is awful. Not for the first time, he began to understand how Lindsay had felt when Melanie betrayed her. “There’s something you need to see.” He’d been surprised when Justin had returned from retrieving the blanket and hadn’t said anything about the picture. But Justin had always been respectful of his privacy to a fault.

Curiosity aroused, Justin sat on the sofa. When Brian returned, he held a framed picture. He handed it to Justin, having a pretty good idea of what the teen’s reaction would be. He’d hidden it deep within the depths of the closet after the Rage party, knowing that to see it would be too fucking painful. A reminder of why the Kinney men didn’t do love.

“You bought it?” Justin’s tone was incredulous. “I always thought you might have. Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“I don’t know.” Not exactly the truth but Justin would know what he meant. Would know that there was a lot more to be said, what it meant that he’d bought it when he’d repeatedly said the young artist meant nothing to him.

Fuck. Justin thought. Brian bought my sketch. He knew that vanity was only a small fraction of the reasoning behind the older man’s decision. “Brian, I---. I don’t know what to say.”

A smile crossed Brian’s face. So I’ve left you speechless? Good. “Chicago. Your birthday. Then no more talking for a while.” Cause this is fucking exhausting. No wonder men don’t do this. No wonder I don’t do this.

Justin agreed. Brian hated to do this sort of thing. Emotional bullshit of any kind was anathema to him. Brian ran a hand over his face, almost as if he were washing without soap, before he began to speak. Justin curled up in a corner of the sofa, knowing Brian would sit if he chose to.

“Marty Ryder and I had a good working relationship for years. When I first started at the agency, I was young, brash, and full of myself. He knew I was good, knew that I could be fucking brilliant if I chose to be. So he took me under his wing, grooming me to be his second chair. The fact that I fucked guys didn’t matter until Kip. When it began to look like we’d have to settle a sexual harassment lawsuit, he changed. He became less understanding. He’d practically assured me I’d be made partner which was why I felt I could spend the week in Vermont with you, when I’d never taken more than a few days off in years.” He looked at Justin, making sure the teen was still with him.

“I’m listening.” And he was. Usually he tended to zone out when Brian went into business mode but it was important to the man. Success was important to Brian for a multitude of reasons.

“So I went into the office early the week we were supposed to leave. Cyn caught me and said that Marty wanted to see me. I thought I was about to be handed the corner office, my dreams realized. But he called me in to let me know that he’d sold the company and was planning on spending the rest of his time on the fucking golf course.” Brian paused; he could still remember how it felt having the rug pulled out from underneath him. “When I met with Gardner Vance, the new owner, he spoke about the rumors of me being gay. I gave him my standard one-liner. Then he said that I needed to give him a reason why he shouldn’t fire my ass too.”

“Shit,” Justin whispered. Met hazel eyes which sparkled with condescension.

“He gave me a week to prove my worth. So I had Cynthia pull up everything she could on the guy. Bank records, credit report, Clio rewards, and whether there were any big accounts he wanted but couldn’t seem to land. She found one: Brown Athletics in Chicago. Justin, it was a split-second decision. I couldn’t think about you ‘cause I knew I’d be disappointing you. But I had to think about the four people in my life who counted on me bringing in a consistent paycheck.” Cynthia, Lindsay, Gus, and you. Cynthia could have lost her job too if I’d lost mine.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Brian smirked. “You went into drama princess mode. It was supposed to be a one-night trip. I’d planned on revising our itinerary but I didn’t get the chance to tell you that. Anyway, I met with Leo Brown at a chophouse. Showed him some rough proofs of a campaign I’d thrown together. Pretty fucking brilliant on such little time. So I landed the account, contingent on the fact that I be made partner and be the senior ad exec on the account. A stipulation that I knew would piss off Gardner.”

“Uh huh.”

Brian paused, remembering how fucking excited he’d been on the plane home. “I got home with a bottle of Veuve Cliquot Ponsardin champagne. To find the loft---”

“Empty,” Justin interjected. He knew the rest of the story. He’d gone on to Vermont without Brian, sulking because he’d thought Brian was just being a prick. Had never considered the importance business played in his life as well as Brian’s. That it wasn’t just about the clothes and accessories and toys and the loft. He’d never realized that Brian worked so hard because he had people depending on him, including himself.

“Yeah. I called out, “Hey Sunshine, your partner just made partner.”” Brian watched as Justin’s face slowly drained of color. “I went to Babylon thinking you might be there. I found Emmett and the guys and they told me you’d gone on to Vermont without me. I spent the next five days here hoping that you might come home early. I didn’t spend all that time in the backroom or the baths. In fact, the guy you came home to see me fucking was the first trick I’d had since before Chicago.” No sense in mentioning the assistant he’d fucked on the Xerox machine to get the details of where Leo Brown was dining. Or the fact that it was Justin’s image he jacked off to.

Shit. Holy fucking shit. Partner? Justin’s mind was caught on that one little word. “I didn’t know,” he whispered. “Brian, if we’d talked about this, about anything-. I’m not saying that things would have turned out differently but they might have. I needed to know that I wasn’t with you just cause you felt guilty, that it wasn’t a nuisance having me around, that you cared.”

Brian picked up the glass of whiskey and knocked it back. “You really need to stop listening to Michael. He doesn’t have your best interests in mind. Hell, I don’t think he has my best interests in mind. I wouldn’t have asked you to Vermont if I didn’t want to spend the time with you. I wouldn’t have agreed to the fucking rules if you weren’t the person I wanted to come home to. I don’t know what would’ve happened between us if you hadn’t been hurt but it wasn’t the only reason you came to live with me. And if you’d asked me to go with you to the Bahamas, I’d have said yes.” He finished with the coup de grace. 

“Brian, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry’s bullshit.”

“Not in this case, it isn’t.” Justin insisted. “We really don’t have to talk about my birthday. I’d really rather you fuck me into unconsciousness.” He could see that Brian’s energy was draining. 

Brian laughed and then smirked. “No, you need to know why I had the reaction I did to birthdays. It goes back to my childhood. You’ve met my mother; there are snakes warmer than Joan Kinney. Most kids joke about how their parents will give them a birthday spanking with one to grow on. Not so in the Kinney household.” Especially when you’re the child no one wanted. But he forced himself to continue despite the fact that this was leaving him more open, raw, and vulnerable to Justin than he’d ever been. Even Michael knew only bits and pieces. Lindsay knew little more than Michael. It was a big fucking deal that he was trusting this to Justin. “On my birthday I’d be quiet. I’d get cards from the kids at school and hide them in my desk cause I knew if I took them home, Pop would be angry. I’m sure that you had birthday parties with cake and ice cream and lots of presents. And everyone was happy.”

Justin nodded silently, remembering his birthday parties as a kid and more recently Molly's. “Pop would come home loaded. I’d be hiding up in my bedroom, hating that I was getting older. Wished it was just another day and didn’t understand why this day was so awful. Mom would be drunk off her ass in the living room, the empty bottle of sherry on the floor beside the couch. And he’d bellow, Sonny Boy. Come get your birthday surprise. Every fucking time. I’d want to crawl under the bed and then I’d hear his lumbering steps resound on the stairs. Knew I couldn’t get out of it. So I’d go downstairs knowing exactly what Black Jack intended but not knowing a way to get out of it unscathed. He’d take off his belt, the one with the steel end,” Brian’s voice became harsher, as he was lost in the memory. 

Justin couldn’t do anything, though he saw the pain in Brian’s face and wanted nothing more than to soothe him. “He jerked down my jeans and gave me the cursory number of whacks, raising welts and, on more than one occasion, drawing blood. But he didn’t stop there until I was a whimpering mess. I could barely stifle my whimpers when I was little but by the time I was twelve, I’d bite through my lip so I wouldn’t give the bastard the satisfaction of knowing how much he’d hurt me. Would have done anything to get away from him. Then he let me go, patting my head, leaning in so close I could smell the whiskey on his breath, saying, your mom should’ve had an abortion. But she didn’t because she’s such a good Catholic. You’ll never amount to anything, Sonny Boy.”

The look in Brian’s hazel eyes was haunted. Justin stayed silent. He’d never seen Brian like this. He figured Michael had. That Michael knew how to handle Brian when he became this mercurial. But he wasn’t prepared for this. A Brian so out of control. So when the tears started to come, his first thought was oh, shit. “Brian,” he said, quietly. No response. 

Then a quiet voice said, “I’m here. Justin, I’m sorry.” He sounded so far away, so lost.

“Why the fuck are you sorry? Brian, you have nothing to be sorry for.” He stood and met Brian in the center of the room, taking the tumbler from him and setting it down. “Come on,” he said, leading his lover up the stairs to the bedroom.

He could feel the sobs wracking Brian’s body though they were soundless. “Justin,” Brian whispered.

“Yeah, I’m here.” Not going anywhere. Ever again. Not leaving you. “What is it?”

It was a long moment before Brian responded, “Stay.” He heard his voice catch and knew that they’d reached a different place in their relationship.

Justin remembered the nights Brian had stayed up with him, comforting him after a nightmare. Remembered Brian holding him when all he needed was just the man’s touch. Justin pulled back the duvet and coaxed Brian underneath the covers, knowing that sex was the last thing either of them needed. Knew that Brian just needing someone who loved him with him. A surge of guilt hit him. Brian wouldn’t feel like this if I hadn’t insisted on us talking, he thought. “Justin.”

“Yeah, Bri.” He hesitated then pulled the shirt off his head, then let the trousers fall in a heap at the end of the bed.

“You coming to bed?” Brian sounded forlorn, lost, and for all the world like a child. He knew when he awakened in the morning he’d have regrets. But for right now all he wanted was Justin curled up next to him, the teen’s arms around him, lending him strength.

In answer, Justin climbed into bed, laying on his side behind Brian, and then wrapped his arms around the older man. “Hush, sleep now. Your old man can’t hurt you anymore. He’s gone, Brian.”

“But he’s still here. He’s here in me.” Brian protested and it broke Justin’s heart to hear him. That he felt that he was his father when he’d worked so fucking hard to be nothing like Jack Kinney.

Justin tightened his grip on Brian, drawing lazy circles on his arm. He remembered the last time they’d laid like this. But he wasn’t going anywhere this time. “Sleep, Bri. Just sleep.”

Justin lay awake for a long time, that night, waiting until he felt Brian’s breathing shift and him ease into sleep. I’m sorry, Bri. Forgive me. I love you. It was the last thing he thought before he, too, surrendered to a much-needed sleep.

Later that same night…

Novotny-Bruckner household

Ben sat up in bed, grading papers while Michael stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Tired of his partner’s unnatural silence, Ben took off his reading glasses and set them on the night stand along with the sheaf of papers.

“Michael, honey.”

“Hmm?”

“What happened when you went to Brian’s?”

“Nothing.”

Sighing, Ben said, “C’mon. You were fine during dinner. So, what happened?”

Knowing Ben’s gentle persuasive technique was as effective as his mom’s harder edged, “What the fuck is wrong with you, kiddo?” tactic, Michael sighed. He’d returned home, visibly upset by Brian’s treatment. And Ben like the others in their small select group knew that Brian had the power to hurt Michael like no one else. He also knew that Michael had a tendency to bring it down upon himself. So he wasn’t too terribly sympathetic. Michael was upset that Brian had put the kid first. Again. “Found the Boy Wonder there with him.”

Ah, Ben thought, beginning to understand why his partner seemed so morose. How even the prospect of a new shipment of comics coming into the Red Cape was not enough to lighten his mood or the prospect of just curling up together watching television.

“And Brian was just getting out of the shower. I asked him what the fuck he was thinking. Told him he was just a rebound, that Justin would only end up hurting him again,” Michael sounded like an indignant child. Worse, like a spouse that had been betrayed.

Fuck. No wonder Brian reacted the way he had. “What did Brian say?” Ben asked, dreading the response. He could just imagine Brian’s reaction to Michael’s statement. Especially considering everyone knew just how miserable he’d been without the kid.

“Told me to get the fuck out. Said it wasn’t any of my goddamn business who he was fucking. He actually defended the little twat.” Michael couldn’t hide that he was offended by Brian’s behavior.

Ben didn’t like it but he was all too aware that there was a part of Michael’s heart that would always belong to Brian Kinney. And he was willing to accept that. There was also a part of him that hated that he’d had what Michael had been denied for over a decade: being fucked by Brian. Even so, he agreed with Brian's response.

“Honey, don’t you think Brian deserves to be happy? Maybe Justin makes him happy.” He certainly saw a different side of Brian when he and Justin were together. Saw glimpses of the real Brian that lay beneath the arrogance, saw Brian’s soul.

Michael harrumphed. “Of course, I want Brian to be happy.” Just not with Justin.

“Then let him work things out for himself with Justin. It’s his life, honey.” Ben gently reminded him.

Michael pouted but said only, “Let’s go to sleep. We’re supposed to meet him and the guys at the diner for breakfast.”

Ben had his doubts about that. If Brian and Justin truly were working things out and getting back together, he figured the diner in the heart of Liberty Avenue was the last place Brian would choose to be. He’d seen how hurt and vulnerable Brian was after the Rage party. He’d known even as Brian denied it how much Brian loved the kid, that he was in love despite his best efforts.

So he simply turned out the light, drawing Michael closer to him, as they fell into sleep.

Back at the loft…

Brian awoke with a start, realizing that he’d opened up to Justin about a truly traumatic event of his childhood. His birthdays had sucked so he’d never seen any reason to celebrate them. Even the landmark ones, like turning eighteen and twenty-one had been anti-climactic. And everyone knew how well he’d handled turning thirty.

He felt Justin stir, the pale arms tightening slightly about him. Brian would never admit it, but he’d missed that. At least he’s not going anywhere, he thought.

“Bri,” a soft, sleepy voice asked.

“Yeah. Did I wake you?” Hadn’t meant to.

“ ‘s okay,” Justin said, sleepily even as Brian felt a different part of his anatomy awaken.

“Happy to see me?” Brian teased, feeling the answering tug in his own cock.

A little more awake, Justin pressed a kiss to Brian’s shoulder, letting his tongue draw a wet line up Brian’s neck, sucking slightly on a spot he knew drove the older man crazy. Brian let out a little whimper that turned Justin on even more. Hearing that he could do that, make Brian lose a little bit of control like that, was more heady than any drug. His hands drifted lower as Brian shifted, raising his hips, to give him easier access. “Sunshine,” Brian said, arousal and desire making his voice husky.

“Uh huh,” Justin said, as he began to tug the sweatpants off.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” Brian cautioned. He definitely wanted Justin. It felt like someone was injecting liquid steel into his dick. He needed some release or he was likely to explode on his sheets like some horny teenager. He kicked the sheet off. Justin let him go long enough for him to remove his wife-beater and toss it somewhere, heedless of where it landed.

All Justin wanted to do was worship his lover’s body. Give Brian some form of release. “Do you still have that vanilla-sandalwood massage oil, Bri?” Justin purred.

He fucking purred. Christ. I’m not gonna beg, dammit. Feeling Justin’s hands get busy, he revised that thought. Okay, keep doing that Sunshine, and I just might beg you to fuck me.

“Yeah, it’s on the night stand,” he choked out. He hadn’t used it since well before Justin left. “Here.” While he wasn’t entirely sure he was ready to have Justin fuck him, a massage as prelude to some hot foreplay didn’t seem like such a bad idea. And Justin was good with his hands. Brian could testify to that. “It’s cold.”

“It’ll heat up,” Justin said, then realized what he’d done.

Hazel eyes met blue. Then Brian cracked a smile. “You think we’ll ever forget that night?” He remembered more than he’d admit to, considering how high he’d been and considering that he’d known even then that Justin was going to be trouble. Trouble for his heart, at the very least.

“No. You were right, you know.”

“ ‘bout what?”

This time Justin didn’t smile. In fact, he was almost sad as he said, “That no matter who I was ever with you’d always be there. It’s been a blessing and a curse, Bri.”

Damn. “Justin, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I know.”

Brian leaned closer, kissed Justin savagely, searching for the younger man’s tongue until they met in a way that was uncomfortably like coming home. A power play as they each fought for dominance, Brian’s stronger will winning out. The kiss shot straight to Brian’s balls. Breaking it, he rolled onto his stomach. Justin ran a hand lightly over Brian’s back, eliciting a whimper. “You don’t want a towel?”

After three years, Justin knew how particular Brian was about his sheets and duvet. He’d never forget the man’s reaction that first night when he’d shot all over the duvet and Brian.

“Fuck it,” he growled. He wanted Justin’s hands on him, in him, now. Now, dammit! 

Recognizing the growing desperation in Brian’s voice, Justin straddled him, knees on either side of his hips. “Justin,” Brian moaned.

“Yes.”

“You’re not gonna get me off now, are you?”“No.”

“Just needed to know.” Brian exerted every ounce of self control he had not to wince with pain as he suppressed the urge to spontaneously orgasm. It was something he’d learned to do though he hadn’t practiced it often with Justin. “OK. I’m better now.”

Justin realized what Brian had done and reminded himself that turnabout was fair play. And Brian could be absolutely merciless when teasing him. He waited as Brian turned back over onto his stomach, bunching a pillow underneath his head. He remembered well the last time he'd topped Brian, how it had been a mind-blowing experience. For the most part, he was content with his role as a bottom. But it was a part he played only with Brian. With everyone else, including Ethan, he was a top. 

So Justin eased his weight as he lay on top of Brian, pressing a kiss to the nape of his lover's neck, knowing the exact spot to make Brian whimper with pleasure. He licked the sensitive skin behind Brian's ear, then traced his jaw line with his tongue.

Reaching for the bottle of massage oil, Justin uncapped it, moving down Brian's body, as he drizzled it. Felt Brian shudder beneath him as the cool liquid hit his body. "Oh, God," Brian moaned.

Justin smiled. Glad to know that I can still make him feel that way, he thought. Fairly silent in the backroom or the baths, Brian was really quite vocal when it was just the two of them.

Justin traced lazy circles with the oil, using the barest tip of his finger. He knew he was driving Brian fucking crazy. Could feel that Brian was trying his damndest not to buck back up against him. He let his hand drift lower until his finger probed the cherry of Brian's ass.

"You clean?"

Concentrating hard on not fucking the sheet, or grinding his dick into the mattress, Brian gasped out, "Yes, I'm fucking clean." Realized he sounded desperate and then a second later realized he didn't give a fuck. "Put something in me, goddammit. Your finger, your tongue, your cock. Justin, you're killing me here."

Brian braced himself as he felt Justin ease his legs apart. Holy fucking Christ, this was hot, he thought. Felt a gentle probing pressure and then a finger covered with massage oil eased past the first barrier of muscle. "God," he couldn't help moaning. Then a second one was added, scissoring back and forth.

"You're so fucking tight," Justin ground out, as his fingers explored Brian's hole, carefully avoiding his prostate. Didn't want Brian to come just yet.

Brian smiled into the pillow. "I know. Come on, Sunshine, I know you can fit another one in." He remembered the last time he'd been fisted though it hadn't been nearly as gentle. On occasion, he liked it rough. And for the first few days after Justin had left, he'd spent the night at Pistol instead of Babylon. Needed some punishment more than he needed a gentle, relaxing, non-complicated fuck.

So he whimpered with pleasure as Justin added another finger and then felt him hit his prostate with deadly accuracy. "Fuck," he moaned, unable to stop his hips from bucking as he began to fuck Justin's hand.

"You like that?" Justin asked, knowing that Brian was close.

"Yessss!" Brian all but shouted. No longer caring that he'd lost his dignity. Felt the familiar tightening of his balls and knew that he was close to a mind-blowing orgasm. 

Justin eased a couple of fingers out then plunged them back in, hitting Brian's prostate as he shouted out, "Fucking God!"

Brian collapsed on the bed, back wet with sweat and oil. Justin eased off him so he could avoid the wet spot on the sheets. Brian rolled over and simply looked at him, while trying to regain his breath. "How the fuck did you know I needed that?"

Not many people would have been forceful after hearing the story about Brian's dad. They'd have been gentle, loving, and careful. Not so with Justin. Justin leaned over to press a kiss to his lips. "I'm onto you, remember?" Then he turned more serious, "I know when you need it fast and when you need it slow. And I know what you expect from me."

"Just as long as we're not too predictable. And it seems like you've learned quite a few tricks." Then Brian bit his lip, realizing he'd said too much.

"Tricks are for kids." Justin quipped. He looked down, saw his own cock was arching towards his belly, aching for release. Saw Brian's attention had turned towards it.

In amazement, Brian said, "I can't believe you didn't jack yourself off while you were doing me. We'll have to remedy the situation."

On any other occasion, Justin might have taken him up on his offer. But though he was hard as a rock and had never wanted Brian more, he didn't want Brian to feel an obligation. Felt Brian sit up and then felt Brian's mouth surround his cock. "Brian," Justin said.

Then he felt a warm mouth wrap around his dick, as Brian's tongue darted out to do his magic. He didn't think anymore as he was just lost in the sensations of the masterful blow job. He thought Brian could probably teach the art of fellatio and make a fortune at it. Gentle, gliding strokes, then he felt Brian deep throat him, felt his head brush the back of Brian's throat. They'd long ago determined the rhythm for this so neither of them choked. Brian was determined to make this good. Justin concentrated on the sensation and not bucking his hips too soon, so that he wasn't fucking Brian's mouth. Ten minutes in, Justin was gone, lost in the sensation and the technique that Brian had long mastered. Then he felt the familiar tug in his balls, the tightening, and he whimpered, "I'm close."

Then he shot into Brian's mouth, felt the man swallow the creamy load. Eased his dick out of Brian's mouth and gasped. "Christ, that was fucking hot."

"That was fucking amazing," Brian agreed, as he came up to give Justin a kiss. "Now, Sonny Boy, let's get some fucking sleep."


	4. Finding a Way Back

Justin wasn’t sure if it was the erection digging into his hip that woke him up or the alarm clock. Either way, Brian flung an arm across him to smack the alarm clock off and it clanged off the bedside table. Groaning, Brian flung an arm across his eyes. Too fucking early to be alive, he thought. Justin rolled so that he straddled Brian.

Hazel eyes slowly slid open, narrowly gazing at the blond. “Hey,” he said, voice rough with sleep. What a beautiful morning. “Morning Sunshine.” So it was cheesy but Brian was entitled. Brian kissed him and said, “Did I thank you for fisting me last night?”

Justin blushed. “Um. No.”

Brian laughed. “After everything we’ve done that makes you blush.”

“Well, yeah. It’s not something we usually do. It’s usually straight-forward fucking with us.” Or role-playing or mild BDSM.

“I like it on occasion,” Brian admitted, “but I don’t want to add it to our repertoire. You got me in a weak moment. I’m not usually open to more than one or two fingers up my ass.”

He loped his arms around Justin, pulling him nearer, dicks sliding against one another. His eyes popped open and he said, mischievously, “You up for a high-protein breakfast?”

Since that was something Ethan had rarely wanted to do, Justin nodded. Brian sighed, saying, “You want to do breakfast with the guys?” He wasn’t in any particular rush to see Michael. Not after the stunt he’d pulled the night before. Since when was Brian’s sexual activity any business of his anyway?

“Not really,” Justin said, raising his head off Brian’s chest so he could meet his eyes directly. God, the man looked like a fallen angel, tousled and sleepy. Sex incarnated.

Brian shifted. “I don’t have much here. You want to do grocery-shopping and then just spend the day together?” Wasn’t as if he was in any hurry to spend the weekend working at the office like he’d intended. Not when he had a very sexy blond back in his bed.

“I have to go to Daphne’s sometime today to pick up clothes.” He knew his best friend would want the inside scoop and all the dirt. She had a very healthy interest in his sex life with Brian, though she’d never inquired about the facts with Ethan. Curious that.

Brian smirked. Kids, he thought. “Here I thought you’d spend the entire time naked in bed with me.” Sounds like a great plan to me: fucking and sleeping and fucking.

Justin kissed him again. “I do but I’m not wearing the same outfit twice.”

My influence, he thought. “Fine. Haven’t seen my favorite girl in a while.” Besides it’ll give me a chance to see where you live. Has to be better than the roach-infested studio you shared with the fucking fiddler and that sad and scary excuse for a cat. Maneuvering into a seated position, he asked, with a leer, “You gonna join me in the shower? Or do I have to take care of this on my own?” he indicated his growing erection.

Like he even needs to ask. “Yeah,” Justin said.

“I must smell like cum,” Brian said, noticing that Justin’s eyes became bluer as he spoke. 

“Yeah,” he said. And it hit Brian that the tone he’d used was the same one when he’d been riding in a car for more than eight hours without a shower. He saw Justin in a new light. 

As for Justin, he simply needed to feel connected. He followed Brian into the bathroom, admiring the man’s physique. Brian stopped to piss and Justin followed suit, Brian smirking at the action. 

He slid the glass door of the shower open, waiting for Justin to join him. He adjusted the water temperature till it was hot enough for him but not hot enough to scald Justin’s fairer skin. He picked up the bottle of imported cucumber melon bath gel and squirted some onto a bath sponge. He kissed Justin’s shoulder, nibbling gently at the spot where shoulder met neck. He ran the sponge down Justin’s back as Justin leaned forward into the shower wall. Reaching for the ever-present tube of lube (though he hadn’t had much occasion to use it when they were apart because no trick ever lasted till morning); he made sure his finger was well lubricated. He eased Justin’s legs apart with his knee, and gently ran his finger over Justin’s hole. He gently pushed the finger in. Justin gasped as he felt Brian’s finger curl upwards toward the top of his hole. He couldn’t help wishing it was Brian’s tongue instead. Or better yet his dick. Whoever said the best things are yet to come had not experienced sex with Brian Kinney. 

“Brian,” he moaned as he felt Brian ease the finger out even as his ass muscles clenched trying to keep it inside.

“Do you want me to fuck you, little boy? Fuck you with my nine-and-a half inch dick. Come inside your tight little ass?” Brian taunted, giving his dick an idle stroke, feeling it grow even harder as if he’d been injected with liquid steel. Need coursed through him. The need to possess Justin. The need to make him his once again. 

“Yes,” Justin said, pushing back against Brian. Brian turned him in his arms so that they faced one another. Brian held a foil packet out to him. 

“Slide it on me. Slide it on my dick.”

Eagerly complying, Justin was startled when Brian roughly kissed him, and then turned him to face the wall again. It was such a familiar position and one he found he’d missed. There was something incredibly intimate, something innately Brian-and-Justin, about fucking in the shower. But his thoughts were cut off as Brian began to slowly push in, his hole widening to accept the much bigger intruder than he’d been using during the time he’d spent flying solo. “You’re so fucking tight,” Brian ground out, as he thrust. The fingers of his left hand were intertwined with Justin’s. His right hand found Justin’s dick, stroking the shaft in rhythm with the in-and-out motion of his strokes. He pulled almost all the way out then back in, in a punishing rhythm that had Justin gasping. Justin bucked back against him, wanting more of Brian. Faster and deeper. Pistoning his hips forward, Brian hit Justin’s prostate even as he nibbled the sensitive spot behind Justin’s ear. Mouth hot against his ear, he said, “Do you want me to bring you off first?”

“No,” Justin said. “Fuck me, Brian. Fuck me! Oh god, fuck me!” Then said nothing as Brian hit his prostate again. Closing his eyes, he saw the dancing minefield of stars behind his eyelids. It was something that only happened when he was with Brian. That connection that only he and Brian shared. It was something that neither of them experienced with any other party. Brian tugged his shaft until his balls emptied, catching some of his spunk in his hand, even as most of it washed down the drain.

Brian pulled out, tossing the condom aside. He turned Justin to face him, palm cupped. Justin could see the milky white cum in Brian’s hand and his eyes darkened as he realized what Brian wanted him to do. He wouldn’t do this for any other lover but then Brian wasn’t just anyone. He was Brian. He stepped forward, eyes rolled upwards so he could see Brian’s face. His tongue darted out like a kitten’s as he bent to lap his cum out of Brian’s hand. He saw Brian’s eyes had bled dark and he kissed him, sharing cum even as they kissed. As they parted, Brian nipped Justin’s lip.

“Christ,” Brian said. More a prayer than an oath. “That was fucking hot. You’re such a dirty little boy.”

Justin stared at him. “Um, Brian, you’ve just washed me.”

“No, I haven’t.”

And the meaning behind his words became apparent. Brian detached the shower massage head and Justin bent over as Brian pressed the lukewarm water up against his hole, letting it fill him. “Oh, God, Brian.”

“Sunshine, are you telling me the violin player never did this?”

“Uh uh.” Why are you asking about Ethan now? Justin thought.

Fucking fool. Ignorant fucking fool. He should be ashamed of himself, Brian thought. “Enough?” he asked.

“Uh huh,” Justin said, as he let himself be cleansed out.

Brian stared at him. “You okay?” he asked.

Since he could barely speak, Justin simply nodded. He agreed. There was something almost tentative in Brian’s gaze as he looked down at his once and future lover. The look faded quickly and he thought there was something familiar about it but he couldn’t place it. He was surprised to hear the water cut off. He hadn’t even noticed it had grown cold. 

Brian chuckled bemusedly at his expression. He handed him a towel, wrapping his own around his waist. Beads of water pooled on Justin’s chest and lower abdomen. He stared at him for a moment, lost in a memory of the first time they’d stood like this. But this time there was no Michael hurrying things along. They were alone. Thank God for small favors, Brian thought.

“Brian.”

Returning to the present, he smiled. He could be forgiven a distraction when a wet and nearly naked Justin stood before him. “Yeah, Sunshine.”

He was very curious as to what exactly Brian had planned for the day. It had been a long time since he’d just hung out with the man. A very long time, he admitted. “You got any ideas as to what I’m going to wear?”

Brian laughed at his serious expression. Justin glared. “Not funny, Brian. I’m serious,” he said, following him into the bedroom. Going to the closet, he pulled out a snug black t-shirt. Justin looked at the garment then at him. Way too small for Brian to wear, he thought. At least now. 

“When did you ever wear this?”

“Long time ago,” Brian said. “I might have a pair of your drawstring pants around here somewhere.” He started towards the dresser then felt Justin’s hand on his arm. “What, Sonny Boy?”

“I’m just surprised. I thought you’d have tossed anything of mine out or taken it down to the incinerator.”

He’d been tempted but, on some level, he’d always hoped that Justin would come back to him. That, like Lassie, he’d find his own way home. It had simply taken a bit longer than he’d have hoped. He shrugged, growing uncomfortable with the scrutiny. He wasn’t about to admit just how much their break-up had hurt him, how he’d felt torn asunder. He avoided Justin’s eyes, finding the pants at the back of a drawer. Getting that he was steering into dangerous waters, he backed off. He figured that asking about underwear was too much to expect when Brian tossed him a pair. Justin’s eyebrows arched.

“You could just go commando, if you prefer. I am. I’m hungry,” Brian said, pulling on a pair of jeans over naked skin. He then reached for a black wife-beater. Casual chic for him.

“You’re hungry,” Justin asked incredulously as he donned the clothes.

“Sex makes me hungry.”

“Uh huh,” he didn’t bother to hide his skepticism. “Sex makes you sleepy. Sex makes you horny. Since when has sex made you hungry?” 

“Since now,” Brian said. He sat down on the side of the bed, zipping up his Prada boots.

“C’mon, Sunshine,” he said, glancing around for his wallet and keys.

“On the kitchen counter.”

“Thanks.”


	5. Finding a Way Back

Meanwhile, Emmett, Ted, Michael and Ben were in their usual booth at the Liberty Diner. Looking at Michael’s long face, Debbie bit her lip. “What’s he done now?” she asked.

“Who?”

“Who?” Debbie sighed, resisting the impulse to give her son a well-deserved swat. “Brian. That’s who.” Was there ever anyone else?

“Nothing, Ma. Brian hasn’t done anything.” Except take that lying, cheating, cock-hungry twink back. Fucking Boy Wonder, my ass. Christ, Brian really is cock-whipped, he thought.

“Uh huh. You know, kiddo, you really can’t lie to me.”

Deciding he’d spare his lover the inquisition, Ben jumped in. “Debbie, it’s nothing.” He laid a hand on Michael’s knee, gently applying pressure.

Not believing that for an instant, she decided to drop it for the moment. But only for the moment. Only one man had the power to make her son look like that. Brian fucking Kinney. “So boys what’ll it be?”

“Eggs, side of link sausages, and toast.” Ted said.

“Blueberry banana pancakes,” Emmett said.

“Bowl of wheaties.” It was Ben’s standard breakfast.

“Eggs, toast, side of buttermilk pancakes. No remarks,” Michael said.

As Debbie disappeared to put the order in, muttering darkly under her breath, Ted asked, “So where is Brian today? It’s not like the God of Fucking to not come in bragging about his adventures in bed.”

Michael shrugged. Thinking bitterly that he was probably giving Justin a high protein breakfast of his own, direct from the source. “I don’t know.” He knew his jealousy wasn’t rational but damn if it didn’t make him feel superior.

“It’s unlike the King of Liberty Avenue to miss a Friday night at Babylon,” Emmett observed. Especially since he and the gorgeous blond twink had called it quits. “Fucking anything new, Michael?”

Rapidly losing his appetite, Michael felt Ben’s fingers grip his knee. “I don’t want to talk about Brian,” he snapped.

The four friends looked at each other. Michael and Ben, of course, had a pretty good idea where Brian was and what or who he was doing. Ted and Emmett were left to speculate as to their missing friend’s whereabouts. Michael’s thoughts grew progressively dark. It was difficult not interfering in his best friend’s life especially when he felt it was a mistake. Never mind the fact that Brian was fucking miserable without him.

Across town, Brian and Justin had pulled into a fairly cozy upscale restaurant. “You’ll like the food,” Brian reassured him. He’d had business meetings at this particular restaurant a couple of times and found the food quite palatable. He’d also found the maitre’d incredibly willing to perform on command. Brian had fucked him wearing the chef’s hat. It didn’t hurt that the owner was also a client. And he was surprisingly adventurous and limber.

“Why so far from Liberty Avenue?” he asked, betting he knew the answer.

As they were seated, Brian lifted his eyes from the menu and replied honestly, “Less chance of running into the guys. And besides the food here is better.”

Studying Brian, Justin noted the lines and angles of his face. He wished he had a sketch pad. As if Brian could read his thoughts, and at times Justin thought he could, the man said, “I bet they have some paper around here. Want me to ask? I do know the owner.”

Of course you do, Justin thought. Before he could respond, the waiter returned with Brian’s coffee and his soda. “Monsieur Kinney.”

“Yes,” he said cautiously. Did I fuck you? He gave the waiter an appraising look before determining that it wasn’t a former trick. Or at least not one he remembered.

“The owner said anything you want is on the house.” Damn, this guy is fucking hot. What I would give to have him fucking the shit out of me.

“Steak au tartare. Scrambled eggs.” He looked to Justin.

“Scrambled eggs and whole wheat toast.”

Brian raised an eyebrow, more than a little surprised at the anemic quality of Justin’s breakfast order. “Something wrong?” he asked as the waiter slipped away. He hadn’t felt this awkward since he’d realized he’d fucked his best friend’s lover, complete with ropes.

“No.”

“Bullshit,” he said quietly. He wasn’t about to get into it but he didn’t want Justin to sulk the entire meal either. “Something’s bothering you. Out with it.”

Justin sighed, knowing Brian wouldn’t just let this go. Sometimes he did if it was something he didn’t want to talk about but he rarely afforded Justin the same courtesy. “How do you know the owner?”

“I fucked him.”

Duh. Doesn’t take a Rhodes scholar to figure that one out, he thought, darkly. Brian’s inability or unwillingness to be monogamous had been a contributing factor to the demise of their relationship. He also knew that Brian honestly felt that fucking a virtual smorgasbord of men was entirely different than what Justin had done. It was, Justin admitted, because emotion wasn’t involved when Brian had someone pushed up against a wall. It was almost mechanical for Brian.

He looked at his young lover. He realized that not only did he not want to fuck this up on the second day, he couldn’t afford to. His heart simply couldn’t bear the pain. His heart had dropped when he’d seen Justin in the Art Department. Yeah, he’d been pissed but he’d also been relieved that Justin was taking the initiative. He had also wanted to draw the blinds and lock the door and fuck Justin till he was screaming his name on the conference table, but had understood that it had to be on Justin’s terms. He recognized the contemplative expression on Justin’s face. It told him that the blond was thinking entirely too much.

“Justin,” he said, getting his attention.

“Hmm?”

“I spent a weekend with Philippe in Philly trying to get the account. I fucked his brains out. On the bed, in the shower, in the elevator. Nine inches cut, right nipple pierced with a barbell. Gave great head.” Though it wasn’t as good as you. 

“Nice introduction, Kinney. What the fuck are you doing in my humble establishment?” A voice asked with a light French accent. The voice fairly dripped sophistication. Who is this? He is very beautiful.

Justin had the grace to blush while Brian simply smirked unapologetically. “Philippe, you bastard. How are you?”

“Good. Haven’t seen you in a while. I just got back from Venice and Milan.”

“Go down the Grand Canal?”Brian asked, a wicked edge to his voice, the double entendre calculated.

Philippe rolled his eyes and Justin smiled. He observed Philippe and noted that the guy was hot, tall and dark. And older by Brian by at least five years. He had a slight look of the Mediterranean about him. “Yeah. The men there know how to give head and fuck. I lost count of how many times I ended up in sixty-nine.” 

The words had Justin wondering for a moment just who had fucked whom. It wasn’t a question he usually had when it came to Brian, because the man was so blatantly a top. This guy seemed like a perfect match for Brian: cool, charismatic, successful, and he defined sex. Exuded sex like a fine cologne.

“Brian, mon ami, you going to introduce me to your friend?” A slight hesitation on the last word did not go unnoticed by either man.

“Justin Taylor, this is Philippe Delacourt. He owns this restaurant along with two in Philadelphia and one in Chicago.” 

He met Philippe’s eyes, saw the question in them, and gave a slight shake of his head. Sorry, Philippe, this one is not up for grabs. Not sharing. He wasn’t interested though there was a time not so long ago when he might have considered it. 

Considering Justin’s expression and the newness of their reconciliation, he went on to say, “He’s an art student at PIFA.” He didn’t feel it prudent to mention Justin’s role at Vanguard.

“Really? What medium?” Philippe asked.

The question shocked Justin. “Graphic design. I do the art work for the gay comic book Rage.” Courteous, he thought, wary of any former trick of Brian’s who expressed interest in him.

Brian sat back in his chair and watched the interplay between Justin and the restauranteur. “Very daring,” Philippe said. “Brian was the impression for Rage. Oui?” He’d seen the comic and thought it an intriguing notion. A gay superhero.

“Yes.”

Philippe spared a look at Brian whose expression had shifted to convey the message clearly: He’s mine. Hands off! Understanding fully the territorial nature of Brian Kinney and his allure, Philippe said, “Let me go check on your order. Justin, it was a pleasure to meet you. Brian, I’ll see you in a few months to discuss some new concepts for our ad campaign. Your meal is on the house, of course.” He gracefully left them alone.

“Nice guy,” Justin observed. Definitely your type. Too old for me.

“Yeah, he is,” Brian said, taking a sip of coffee. “Having second thoughts, Sunshine?”

“No. Just curious. He’s hot.” Shut up, Taylor.

Brian’s smile was brittle. He wasn’t going to play this game. “I’m sure you could fuck him. Take him in the back, push him up against the deep freeze, and let your talented tongue do all the work. Fuck him until he's moaning your name.”

Recognizing the bait for what it was and refusing to be a fish, he said, “Not interested.” And he wasn’t, though it wouldn’t have been the first time he’d fucked one of Brian’s former tricks. You couldn’t live in Pittsburgh and share the same playground and not pick up one of Brian’s discarded toys.

Brian took a sip of coffee, grimacing as he realized it had grown cold. He made a face and Justin laughed. He’d seen Gus wear the same expression. “What?”

“Nothing. Just thinking about Gus.”

A rare, genuine smile appeared on Brian’s face. He loved his son though he hadn’t thought he would. The ringing of his cell phone prevented him from responding. He glanced at the Caller ID display, saw it was Lindsay, and said, “Hey, Lindz. What’s up?”

He listened a moment, aware Justin was studying him. “You need me to watch Gus?”

He smiled softly. It was a surety that no trick ever saw Brian Kinney in “Daddy” mode. “Yeah, I can do it. I’m eating breakfast but we’ll be by to pick him up after we’re done eating. Have a bag packed for him. I’m sure you and Melanie wouldn’t mind a little time alone, to reacquaint yourselves with each other.”

He listened another moment and then said, “Yes, I said we. Lindz, it’s not a trick. I wouldn’t expose Gus to that. Even I have more principles than that.” His voice now had a slight edge to it. “See you later.”

He met Justin’s eyes. “Sorry about that.”

“Lindsay need you to watch Gus?”

Brian nodded. “You mind?”

“Of course not. I adore spending time with Gus.” He also liked seeing Brian out of his element with a near three-year-old.

Brian drained his cup of coffee, relieved that their food had finally arrived. “This looks wonderful.” Steak so blue it still mooed. “Sunshine.”

Justin had plowed into the pile of fluffy scrambled eggs with the same abandon he used when sucking Brian’s cock. Brian had to admire the kid’s enthusiasm. “Uh huh,” he said, mouth full.

Amused, Brian said, “Swallow. I was just going to ask if you’re ready to let Lindz and Melanie know.” He was actually surprised that Michael hadn’t told Melanie. After all, they were expecting a child. An idea that still had him horrified. Who’d have thought that Michael’s sperm would actually like Melanie’s egg. The horror! The horror!

“Yeah,” he said. He’d come to the realization that no matter how much he and Brian wished to keep their reconciliation under wraps they couldn’t. And besides he was proud to be with Brian, even though their relationship wasn’t a norm even among the varied denizens of Liberty Avenue.

Brian cut another piece of steak and smiled at Justin’s nearly horrified expression. “It’s not like I ordered veal,” he reminded him. “I guess you’re okay with letting people know.”

Justin shoveled up some more eggs and nodded. He waited to swallow before saying, “We can’t keep the whole world out. Can’t control everything.” Then, he said, echoing Brian’s words from so long ago, “No apologies. No regrets.”

“No turning back,” Brian finished.

Their eyes met and each knew that they understood each other. Justin wasn’t yet fluent in Brian-speak again but he was getting there. They finished eating in relative silence, half-expecting Philippe to re-emerge but he didn’t. Both were relieved for different reasons.


	6. Finding a Way Back

Author's Note: It is true that Jenna Jameson is an adult film star as are Sydnee Steele and Briana Banks. It is also true that Jenna did girl-girl scenes for a long time before doing male-female scenes. This is a verifiable fact. I have also amended this due to the fact that it was brought to my attention that a Corvette does not have a back seat therefore Justin could not fit into it.

* * *

As they headed to Lindsay and Melanie’s, Justin thought he’d have been holed up in the studio at the Institute working. There was something about losing himself in work that was soothing. That hadn’t become obvious to him until he’d begun working with Brian on a daily basis.

Brian, on the other hand, was thinking that he’d have hit the baths, taken a bump, and gotten a fairly mediocre blow job. Then spent the night in the backroom of Babylon getting a slightly better blow job and fucking some anonymous trick. This was much better. Spending time with his two boys: Gus and Justin. His two “Sonny Boys,” as Lindsay had once referred to them. He didn’t even mind babysitting Gus. That, he reflected, had once seemed like a chore. Like an imposition of the worst kind. Considering that, Brian’s fingers tightened slightly on the wheel. It amazed him that people thought him so shallow, even those who purported to know him so well. Now Gus came first despite prior plans or what he wanted. That was what happened when you had a child. Priorities changed. He wasn't the same man who had dumped his kid on a teenager to go to the Leather Ball though he remembered the events that followed in vivid detail.

“Brian,” Justin’s voice broke into his reverie. 

“Yeah,” he said, gruffly.

“You missed the turn.”

“Fuck,” he said, checking traffic before hooking a U-turn to backtrack. Then it occurred to him that Justin still needed to pick up clothes and other stuff from Daphne’s. “We’ll stop by your place on the way home.” God, I wish you’d just move back into the loft.

“Thanks.” Surprise colored Justin’s tone. He studied Brian’s profile as he drove, realizing that he’d love to sketch Brian as he was now. Like fine wine, and very few men, Brian seemed to be improving with age. He knew Brian would vehemently disagree with that observation, feeling as he did about growing older.

Brian pulled up to the curb in the Corvette and sighed. At times like this he missed the jeep. When he’d bought the Corvette, the only thing on his mind was that he now drove a car that wasn’t haunted by memories of him and Justin. Justin sitting astride him while they fucked or Justin bending down to slowly and teasingly lick him to full arousal in the car. Dismissing the vivid sexual images, he turned to Justin, saying, “You mind riding in the back? I’ve got to fit his fucking car-seat in here somehow.”

Justin laughed out loud at the expression on his face. “Not a problem.” He was used to tight squeezes.

“Lindsay may not let Gus ride back with us. I think she forgot that I no longer have the jeep and this car isn't exactly kiddie friendly. Ready to face the Munchers?”

A nod was the response. They knocked on the door and it was opened by a miniature tornado. 

“Daddy!” Gus said in a near-shout, his excitement at seeing his father clear.

He was followed by a frazzled looking Melanie whose jaw dropped when she saw who accompanied Brian. Son of a bitch, she thought. He got him back. He fucking got him back. She was torn between being pleased and disgust. “Come in,” she invited. “Lindz, honey, the asshole’s here!” she hollered.

“Christ,” Brian said in disgust. “And you two complain about me cursing. The kid’s going to have the foulest mouth on the playground before he’s five years old.”

“Don’t call him that, Mel.” Lindsay started to chide her wife then stopped cold at the top of the stairs, one stiletto heel on and the other in her hand. “Justin, baby, what are you doing here?” Please God, she prayed, tell me that Brian is trying to fix things. That he’s not going to fuck this up again.

Before Justin had a chance to answer, Brian said, smugly, “He’s with me.”

“One night thing?” Melanie inquired bitchily. Pregnancy hadn’t done anything to dull her inner bitch much less bring out her inner goddess. Brian simply brought out the worst in her. It wasn't hard to do and so much fun. For both of them, she admitted. It gave them both some sort of perverse pleasure to mind-fuck the other.

Lindsay sent her wife a scorching glare. Brian said, “No.” Then he looked at Justin, who realized that three pairs of eyes were focused on him. 

“No, it’s not a one-night thing. I found what I thought I’d lost.”

Making his presence known, Gus shouted, “Daddy! Go wit’ you and Jus’n.”

Directing his attention to his son, Brian bent down, and held his arms out as Gus ran full force into them. “Hey, Sonny Boy. You say hi to Justin yet?”

“Hi, Jus’n,” Gus said, quietly. I haven’t seen you and Daddy for a while, he thought. He liked Daddy. Daddy was fun though he didn’t like it much when Mama Melanie was mean to him. He’d heard Mommy and Mama Mel fighting about Daddy. That scared him and made him sad.

“Hey, kiddo,” Justin knelt down so that he was eye level with the toddler. He was good with kids and adored Brian’s son.

Lindsay observed the interaction between the three most important males in her life. “Gus, honey, why don’t you go grab your bag and bear. Daddy and Justin will be waiting down here for you.”

It’ll give us grown-ups a chance to talk, she thought, watching as her son disappeared upstairs.

Brian stood, turned to go to the living room. He flopped down on the sofa, Justin sitting down next to him, and then Brian simply pulled him down on top of him. They make a pretty picture, Lindsay noted. Light and dark, opposing forces. 

Melanie sat down and looked at her wife. I’ll never understand their connection, she thought. Why the asshole means so fucking much to her? What does Brian Kinney have that I don’t? Other than an over-used dick. I’ll never be him, never really have all of her heart. Lindsay and Brian shared a past. Things that she wasn’t a part of. She knew she didn’t know everything about their relationship. They also shared a son. As much as she loved Gus, and Melanie did, he isn’t really mine. It was a bond that Lindsay and Brian would always share. Hell, the asshole’s name is on the fucking birth certificate. A decision that she'd fought tooth and nail against and wound up losing.

“So, Bri, how long?”

Justin shifted on Brian and Brian’s arms casually looped around him, a move so intimate that Lindsay caught her breath. It was obvious just how comfortable the two were together. She knew that in seven months they’d have been together off and on for three and a half years. Brian had changed, evolved, and shifted.

“Less than 24 hours,” Brian answered honestly. His eyes sought out Melanie’s. He hadn’t forgotten nor forgiven her for betting against them when they’d gotten back together after Justin had been hurt. Wonder what the bet will be this time? The difference was that this time he was determined that the house was going to win. And they wouldn't be fucking in Debbie's downstairs bathroom while their supposed "friends" decided they didn't have a chance in hell.

Lindsay had expected him to say days not hours. Their reconciliation was shiny and new, like a newly minted penny. “Bri, you sure you want to have Gus overnight? Wouldn’t you rather spend time alone with Justin?”

Understanding completely what she was trying to do, he said, “Got a big night planned, Lindz?”

“I bet,” Melanie snidely remarked. Her comment earned a glare from both Brian and Lindsay. Great, she thought, just fucking great. Now she’s pissed at me. "Brian, we'll pick him up at ten." Her tone making it clear that there was no room for objection from either her wife or her arch-nemesis.

“Actually,” he began, “we need to stop by Daphne’s so Justin can pick up some clothes and some other stuff. Then it’s back to the loft. Spend time with Sunshine and Mini-Me. Ten is fine.”

God, does she really think I’d turn down the opportunity to spend time with my son? He thought. It’s not as if I spend all that much time with him as it is. Wonder whose idea that is as if it wasn't clear as crystal.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes,” he ground out, sparks of green flashing in the depths of his hazel eyes. “Lindz, enjoy your function. Enjoy your night with the Queen of Mean. We'll see you at ten.”

“So, this isn’t some fly by night thing? You know, in and out?” Melanie interjected.

You cunt, Brian thought, as his arms grew a bit tighter around Justin. Knew the teen was avoiding looking at him for fear of what his eyes held. He shifted into a sitting position so that Justin was sitting astride his lap, in a position that mimicked what they sometimes found themselves in while fucking. Surprisingly enough, it was Justin who answered. “I’m back. Staying. This is real. It’s not a rebound.” You bitch.

“What about Ethan?”

It was difficult but Brian clamped down on his temper while Justin looked into his eyes, reading the emotion that lay in his expressive eyes. “Over. He cheated on me.”

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry,” Lindsay said, feeling guilt stab her like a needle. She avoided looking at her best friend. She knew that Brian blamed her, on some level, for the collapse of their relationship. For introducing him to the interloper that would fuck everything up, turn Brian’s world upside down.

“That asshole,” Melanie burst out. She looked directly at Brian. Then spoke with deliberate and cutting irony, “But isn’t that why you left Brian? Because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants? Fucked everything in sight because a hole is a hole is a hole. Right, Kinney?” Her tone venomous.

“Jealous, Mel? Jealous that I have a dick and you don’t.”

“I prefer pussy, Brian. Love going down on it. Never did like dick.” Unless it’s Lindsay or Leda wearing a harness.

“Fuck you, Melanie,” Brian said, keeping his voice low. She always knew where to strike to make him bleed. But he could and had done the same to her.

“No, that’s not why I left Brian.” Justin’s tone made it clear that he was in no hurry to elaborate. “Ethan made me a promise of fidelity. He lied.” And that was the difference. Brian had always been painfully honest.

Lindsay knew exactly what Justin wasn’t saying. He’d found someone to give him the pretty words but an ugly reality. Brian, on the other hand, refused to admit his true feelings but was honest to a fault. And loved Justin silently but deeply. And Justin had found what mattered to him was Brian.

“Mommy,” a young voice called.

“Yeah, baby.”

“I wanna go with Daddy and Jus’n. I’m ready.”

The adults laughed. There was more than a little of Brian in his son. Sensing the conversation was over, Gus made his way downstairs, dragging a diaper bag and the leather-clad bear his father had bought him when he was a baby. "We're going to drop you off at Daddy's in a little while, Gus. Daddy's car won't fit three people. It's safer if we drop you off."

Gus pouted. “Daddy.”

Brian unfolded himself from Justin, easing the teen from his lap. He rose to help his son, saying, “Yeah, Sonny Boy.” He knelt down next to his son and said, "Mommy's right. I've got this tiny car and it's better if your mommies bring you over later."

“Go, Daddy. Go,” he insisted, lower lip jutting out in a familiar expression. Definitely my son, Brian thought.

Was I ever this young? This innocent? He wondered. Somehow I doubt it. Think Jack first hit me when I was around Gus’s age. Couldn’t imagine doing the same to his own son. "You will, kiddo. Just a little bit later." Christ, he hated disappointing his son.

“So you two are back together?” Melanie asked, just to confirm. “Not just fucking. Or sucking?”

She was astonished when Brian whirled around. His eyes locked on Justin and, in a movement so fluid it seemed choreographed, they came together in a blur of motion. Brian’s mouth crushed down on Justin’s, savagely plundering the depths, tongue scraping his teeth. Tongue sought Justin’s even as he clamped his hands on Justin’s hips, pulling him closer. When he broke the kiss, both were flushed with arousal, breathing heavily, eyes darkened with desire.

He turned back to Melanie. “That answer your fucking question?” Had he not been in the muncher’s living room, he’d have dragged Justin down to the floor. He still felt the need, pumping hot through him, the need for possession.

Justin was still breathless though he understood the motivation behind Brian’s action. His lips were bruised, flesh tender to the touch. And he knew that he’d been branded, marked for ownership. Knew that Brian had said quite clearly: Mine.

Lindsay bit her lip once again. Wow, she thought. She had vague memories of Brian in bed, the raw power of him as he rose up above her. Memory warred with reality and reality won out. She started to admonish Brian for his behavior but her wife beat her to it with her usual disregard for tact. “Yeah. But if I wanted a floor show it wouldn’t be you two. And not in front of Gus.”

That had Brian stepping forward, a dangerous glint in eyes gone dark with fury. “Who’d you prefer, Melanie? Jenna Jameson and Sydnee Steele, maybe? Or Jenna and Briana Banks?” There was a clear edge to his tone, an icy undertone. 

The tension ratcheted up a notch and had Lindsay and Justin stepping closer to their respective partners. “As if he hasn’t been affected by the sound of you two going down on each other. At least, I’ve never walked out on him. I never turned my back on my own child. And I’ve never had sex with anyone in the same room as Gus. Or while he's sleeping next door.” Seeing as he was on a roll, Brian decided to twist the knife a little deeper, knowing even as he did so that it was going too far. “I know that I satisfied Lindsay, know those moans when she rode me were real.” He hated using their brief affair as ammunition but enjoyed seeing Melanie flinch. 

Justin, however, just closed his eyes. He felt as uncomfortable with the reality of Brian’s carnal knowledge of Lindsay as did Melanie. Having a front row seat was sometimes highly overrated. Where on earth did Brian ever see Jenna Jameson? He wondered. Hetero porn was not something he enjoyed then he realized that for along time lesbian scenes were all Jenna had done. So the girls might have seen something though he couldn't imagine the proper Lindsay watching a fuck film.

Lindsay inhaled, tears pooling in her eyes. Justin was shocked. It had Gus wondering why Mama was so mean to Daddy, why Mommy was crying, and why his Daddy was so cranky. He wondered if Daddy was done yelling. Melanie stepped forward, her hand surging upwards on a direct collision course to Brian’s face. “First strike is free. After that I hit back.” His words were cool and spoken with quiet detachment. He pulled the mask back into place but it took effort.

The quiet delivery had her backing down, though there was still murder in her eyes. She looked down and, out of the corner of her eye, saw Gus. He’d been so quiet everyone had forgotten him. Shit, she thought. Holy Christ.

Lindsay looked at Brian and the hurt and anger he read in her eyes had him knowing the battle was over but not the war.

“Daddy,” Gus said, creeping closer to his father, clutching his teddy bear close. Fear made his voice quake and he wanted to pee but was trying so hard to be a big boy. To make his daddy proud of him.

Brian looked down at his son and felt guilt so profound it nearly dropped him to his knees. He’d done two things he’d never wanted to: acted in a moment of weakness like Jack Kinney and scared his child.

“You mad at Mommy and Mama. Why?”

Oh, fuck, he thought. “Not mad, Sonny Boy. Just having a little disagreement.” Okay, so that was a lie. But how do you explain about lesbian sex to a near three-year-old, he wondered. Or that I would give anything to bend Justin over that table over there and fuck the shit out of him.

To a small frightened little boy it was still Daddy being angry. Gus looked at his Daddy, so big and strong. He wondered where the man who tickled him was. Where the man who read him Goodnight, Moon over and over again was. And Jus’n looked sad too as he looked at Daddy.

Lindsay made a forcible effort not to plow into Brian herself. This was far from over, she realized. He’d never really cut Melanie down like that in front of Gus before. Though, she admitted, Melanie's done it to him often enough.

Melanie made a strangled sound of disbelief. “You’re not still planning on letting him take him. After what the asshole said. I’m sure Dusty can watch him.”

The idea of Dusty with his son made Brian’s blood boil. No fucking way. He began to answer but then Lindsay turned on her wife. “I’m attributing your actions to hormones. Brian is still my son’s father. I don’t need your permission to let Brian see his son. And don’t call him an asshole in front of Gus." "But you're right," she said, turning to Brian, "all three of you can't ride in that dick on wheels." She simply called it as she saw it.

Brian looked at her, her patrician mask was slipping a bit. "Why don't you bring Gus over right before you two leave?"

“Your son?” Melanie repeated. She hated the way Brian fucking Kinney could and would always come between them. She hated knowing that they’d been lovers, a fact which had been so indelicately shoved in her face again. It bothered her that Brian knew her wife intimately, carnally, knew places on Lindsay’s body she probably didn’t even know about. She too knew that this conversation was far from over.

“My son,” Lindsay emphasized the word my. Directing her attention to Brian, she said coldly, “We’ll be there around ten to pick him up. Thank you for watching him.” Her patrician WASP breeding showed through her anger, leaving her voice arctic and emotionless.

She followed him out, sending an acid glance back at her wife. Once in the driveway, Lindsay turned on him. "How could you?"

"How could I what?"

"Don't play stupid. You know what you did."

"Just pointed out a fact," Brian said. He wasn't going to apologize for saying something that was true. "Melanie is clearly suffering from penis envy."

Not acknowledging that, she said, "How could you cut her down like that?"

"Moi," he droned sarcastically. "How many fucking times has she cut my balls off in front of Gus? Turnabout is fair play, Lindz. Something your dear wife should know."

"You threatened to hit her," Lindsay pointed out. That had made her blood turn to ice. She'd rarely seen the violence that simmered within Brian. "You alluded to porn stars."

Brian looked directly at her. "Wasn't Melanie in a layout once? I'd have thought she'd be flattered by that. After all, Jenna is one fucking hot woman. I may be gay but even I can appreciate the beauty of that woman." He continued, "I would not have hit her. I've never struck a woman in my life, much less a pregnant one. But I don't cotton to her threatening to hit me in front of my son. Or treating me like shit she scraped off the bottom of her shoe. And thanks for the belated support, Lindz. She hates the fact that I have a dick and she doesn't."

"And you use yours so well."

"Of course I do. Justin can testify to that." Then, smiling smugly and unapologetically, he said, "So can you."

Seeing that she wasn't getting through to him, she said, "We'll be by in an hour or so with Gus. Is that okay? We'll call first."

"Yeah, we need to stop by the store anyway. I didn't think you'd want Gus riding in the car with us."

"It's not that," Lindsay said wearily. "But the three of you can't fit in that car. I don't know how you manage fucking in it." At least, the jeep had more room, she thought.

Brian smiled smugly. "I have my ways."

"I'm sure you do," she said, images flashing unbidden through her mind. It was always something to remember Brian unrestrained. But I'm a lesbian, she reminded herself. I like pussy not cock. Funny how that seemed hollow even to her.

It was Justin who walked out the front door last, stopping to say goodbye to Melanie. Melanie spoke sadly, “Why do you love Brian? Why does everyone care so much about a fucking, narcissistic asshole?”

Justin met her gaze. “I love him because he’s Brian. I get him. I understand him.”

Sighing, Melanie realized that she’d never understand why Brian inspired such loyalty and devotion even from those who he had treated like shit in the past. “Baby, I hope you know what you’re getting into. I’d hate to see you hurt again.”

“And Brian wasn’t hurt?” he pointed out. “He wasn’t hurt by my walking out on him? I got a second chance with the man I love. I’m not going to fuck it up.”

Melanie watched from the front door as Justin got into the Corvette. She couldn’t shake the fear that one day she wouldn’t be enough for Lindsay. She watched Justin and Brian drive away, feeling cold and empty inside as Lindsay stood on the driveway. It was lost on her that Gus was by her side, watching his daddy drive away also.

Inside the Corvette, the two men were silent. Brian simply concentrated on driving. His eyes met Justin’s and he read pain and disappointment in the baby blues.

He headed towards the apartment Justin shared with Daphne. He’d opted for a Classic Rock station and felt the strains of Fleetwood Mac’s Gold Dust Woman fill the car. He could relate and identify with this song. It was a few minutes before Justin trusted himself enough to speak without attacking Brian himself. “You coming up?”

“No. I'll wait for you in the car. The girls will bring him by in an hour or so. Tell Daph I say hi. Get what you need,” Brian said, pulling up in front of their building. He got out to let Justin out and said, “I’m sorry about the scene at Lindz’s.”

“Not me you need to apologize to,” Justin said, lips finding Brian’s in a gentle and soft kiss that sought to soothe not arouse. Still when he drew away he could feel the heat in Brian’s gaze, felt the underlying promise of wickedness.

Brian watched him disappear into the building, then brushed the pad of his thumb across his lips, then licked them, still tasting Justin. He knew Justin was right and considered himself lucky that Lindsay hadn’t reamed him out then and there.

The apartment he shared with Daphne was on the third floor of an old, pre-war building. Forgoing the temperamental elevator and ignoring the complaints of the sleeping wino on the stairs, he took the stairs two at a time. He fumbled the key into the lock, cursing until he felt the tumblers finally engage. He pushed the door open and walked in on his best friend and her current boyfriend engaged in some pretty serious petting. She pulled down her shirt and Curtis covered his lap, belatedly disguising a hard-on that was enviable.

“Shit, Justin!” she exclaimed. “Ever hear of calling?” She was mortified as she tore herself away.

“Sorry Daph. Curtis,” he said. “Brian’s waiting down in the car.”

Curtis simply nodded, a little embarrassed that Daphne's gay roommate had seen his cock. But he dismissed it. It wasn't like he hadn't seen dicks before. Just that from a purely aesthetic standpoint even he could admit that Justin was hot. That didn't bother him as much as it should have. And it bothered him that it didn't bother him. He had to admit he wondered what Taylor looked like naked. Okay, man, he thought. You've got a hot woman about to go down on you and you're comparing dicks. Think about what you're doing. 

“You got him back,” she squealed as Curtis pulled her back down, so she was between his knees. He fumbled loose one of the clasps of her bra and she swatted at him, as his fingers closed on one of her nipples. She glanced back at him and he simply smirked. "So where is Mr. Magnificent?"

“Yep,” Justin said, cryptically. "He's in the car." He disappeared into his bedroom. From the closet, he removed a week’s worth of shirts, two pairs of cargo pants and a few pairs of dressier slacks for work at Vanguard, socks, and an Yves St. Laurent thong Brian had bought him. Last into his bag was a sketchpad and a couple of grease pencils. He hoped to cajole Brian into letting him sketch father and son together.

He said his goodbyes knowing that Daphne was going to fuck Curtis on their sofa. Christ, he thought disgusted, straight sex. The thought had him shuddering as he slid into the ‘Vette. “Got everything?” Brian asked.

“Uh huh.”

“How’s Daphne?”

“Getting ready to fuck her boyfriend on our sofa. I think she was stroking him off when I walked in the door. I may never sit on it again.” Ugh, breeder sex.

“Just think of how many times you’ve shot a load on our sofa,” Brian reminded him. Like I haven’t done the same, he thought, remembering a time recently when he’d had a trick over who had spent long moments licking and sucking him to multiple orgasms.

Taking a moment to savor the word our, Justin looked at him. “The sofa is white. Brian, cum is white. It’s not like it stands out until it dries.”

“True.” God, I wish you’d just move back into the loft. He understood Justin’s reluctance and even admired the kid for sticking to his guns. When they moved in together again, and Brian knew that day would come, it would be for all the right reasons. “You get clothes for Monday?” Thought of Justin in his office and wondered just how he was going to keep his hands off the very hot, young blond. Though, of course, there was the added bonus of getting caught in a compromising position. He wondered if he could convince Cynthia to run interference for him with Gardner.

“Uh huh. Brian, why don’t we run by the grocery store? I can pick up some stuff for dinner.”

He’d missed Justin’s cooking. Missed walking in after a long day at work to something on the stove or the oven. Missed the occasions when it had been prepared by a naked chef. How many times had the meal been forgotten so that Brian simply raised him up and gone down on him or had him lean forward against the counter so Brian could fuck him. Or the nights he'd walked into the loft to find Justin laying in bed jacking off, so near to exploding it had taken a mere touch from him. It had been calming to know that at the end of the day he’d be coming home to someone who loved him. He hadn’t experienced that in the Kinney household. It had been more along the lines of, “Where’s that fucking kid?” Or “Where’s my beer. Goddammit, woman, why isn’t dinner ready?” And then, of course, there had been the nights Jack would be sober as a dormouse and smack him so hard he’d fall into a wall or a table. How many times had he chipped his tooth or broken his nose? Or bruised his ribs. Dismissing thoughts of the past because they did nothing but remind him of pain, Brian sighed.

“Sure.”

He glanced at Justin, blue eyes wide and questioning. “You think I stepped over the line, don’t you?”

“I think you stepped on it and erased it. But I understand why you did what you did.” He couldn’t honestly say that hearing about his lover’s relationship with Lindsay didn’t have a serious squick factor or that it didn’t bother him. It did. But it was he who had Brian. He wondered just how much that bothered her.

Brian looked at him. He didn’t much believe in second chances but he and Justin had one. For someone who’d fought against ever having a relationship, he wanted this to work pretty fucking desperately. So he was willing to do whatever it took, stopping short of sacrificing his pride and doing something he regarded as lesbianic. That isn’t to say that Brian wasn’t willing to eat some crow. It was just that it wasn’t a regular staple on Brian Kinney’s menu.


	7. Finding a Way Back

Forty-five minutes later they pulled into Brian's parking spot in the garage. The car was full of grocery bags. Justin grabbed several bags as Brian took a moment to get out. Then Brian took several more bags, eliminating the need for more than one trip. Still it was Brian who went up first saying he needed to do a few things in the loft before Gus arrived.

Justin walked into the building, silently. Much better than spending time closed up in the studio, he thought. He waited for the cargo elevator, thinking about just how needy he'd been, how much he'd wanted Brian's hands on him, wanted Brian in him, needed the connected feeling he only ever got when he realized that a part of Brian was in him.

When the elevator approached the sixth floor, he noted the door had been left open. Setting the bags down on the counter, he watched as Brian emerged from the bathroom, barefoot. He never did like shoes, Justin recalled.

"Hey, you get everything?"

"Yeah," he said. "What do you want to do? Gus is going to be here soon."

The sky had darkened considerably during the time they'd spent in the grocery store. That made plans of leaving the loft impossible even if it had been feasible.

Brian's plans of spending the afternoon fucking, sleeping, fucking, and sleeping had been shot by the addition of a two-year-old. "Dunno. Watch a movie. Make out." He grinned.

The expression was mirrored by Justin. "I'll be right back." He had planned on being filled by Brian again and again. But there was something to be said about just making out, tongues sliding softly against one another, tasting each other as prelude.

While Justin was in the bathroom, the phone rang.

"Brian."

"Lindz."

"We're on our way. Thanks for doing this."

"Yeah. See you in a few."

By the time Justin returned, Brian had reclined on the sofa. 

"Justin," Brian spoke softly.

Crossing to the sofa where Brian lay, Justin neared him. He was pulled down next to Brian. Brian's mouth was hot against his ear, tip of his tongue tracing the delicate cartilage, stopping to gently nip the lobe, drawing it just barely into his mouth. He shuddered. Brian drew away and said in a tone that could only be described as sex, "I want you to ride me. I want to see your face when you come, knowing it's me and only me you're thinking about when I'm balls deep inside you." Voice low and seductive. Meant to tantalize and arouse. It amazed Brian that he could still want Justin, have such a visceral reaction to the mere nearness of the younger man. "I want to lick you clean like an ice cream cone, till you arch into me, wanting me deeper."

Justin drew back reluctantly and spoke one word only. "Gus."

Brian smiled slightly. "I said what I wanted not what I was going to do. The girls are on their way with Mini Me."

"The sheets---" Justin started.

"Are clean. I changed them when I came upstairs."

Brian sat up. "If he takes a nap this afternoon he can't sleep too long or he'll be up all night. And then you and I will never get a moment's peace as Lindsay will let us know about it."

He's a good father, Justin thought. He'd known he would be even when Brian doubted it. 

Twenty minutes later, both men were occupied with various mundane tasks. Justin reading a chapter in a book on impressionism and Brian at his computer. The knock on the door jolted them both out of their concentration. Closing down the program, Brian went to answer it. Sliding it open, he was unsurprised to see Lindsay and Gus.

"Hey, sonny boy," Brian said, as Gus ran full-tilt into him. Glancing at Lindz, he asked, "He have lunch yet?"

"Yeah. A PB & J sandwich. I figured he'd have something less healthy tonight."

Glancing at the teenager reclining on his sofa, Brian figured that was a pretty safe guess. "Yeah, Justin'll probably want pizza. Is that okay?"

Lindsay nodded. "As long as you don't allow him a soda. Try to get him to drink juice." She hesitated, and Brian said, "It's going to be all right, Mom. It's not going to screw him up to leave him a few hours with me."

"I know that Brian."

"Your bitter half giving you a hard time," he said. "Lindsay, I'm sorry if I was a little tough on her but she pissed me off. It's hard enough trying to figure things out betwen the two of us without judgment being passed before forty-eight hours have even passed."

"Okay," she conceded. "We'll see you guys at ten. Don't let him nap too long otherwise he'll be up all night. And, unlike you, he can't sleep till noon or one." She gave Brian a knowing glance. "For the record, Bri, I'm glad you two are back together. I knew you could do it."

Brian smirked. "Of course I can. You see before you the Pittsburgh version of Bacchanal, complete with Bacchanalia."

"You are incorrigible," she said, but she laughed.

Leaving the three alone, Brian rejoined Justin and Gus in the living room. They watched Gus playing with the train set Brian had bought him. Brian started to say something when there was a knock on the loft door. Exchanging glances, Brian slid the door open. Not up for visitors, he thought, unamused. Haven't people heard of a telephone? He wasn't expecting any more visitors since Lindsay had dropped Gus off so he wasn't exactly thrilled to see who was at his door.


	8. Finding a Way Back

Justin was out of the direct line of sight but he saw the visitor clearly. Seemed their hopes of keeping things quiet for a few days was doomed. The news of the most famous reconciliation since that of Germany would be all over Liberty Avenue by ten o'clock that night. "Debbie," Brian said, resigned to his fate. "Come in." He knew she would even if he didn't extend the invitation, barreling past him like a red-haired tornado or a steam engine.

Justin sighed inwardly. Debbie was like a den mother to all the boys on Liberty Avenue. Those who came in to eat and those who came in to parlay their ass and those who needed a sympathetic ear. That was not to say that she did not pass judgment, because she did. And Brian was one of her favorite targets. Blame him for all things including a drop in the ratings of her favorite television show. Sensing there was no point in delaying the inevitable, Justin emerged into her line of sight.

"Sunshine," she said, unable to hide her surprise and delight. Turning to Brian, she gave him a swat upside the head, "You little asshole!"

"Hey, my son is here. Watch your language" Brian said, indicating the small boy in his bedroom.

"Is he in your bed?"

Her tone had him narrowing his eyes and answering defensively," The sheets are clean. Christ, does everyone think that I would lay my son down in a bed on sheets I've fucked on?" Irritation and petulance were clear in his voice. Later on Brian would remember how Debbie had thought that. It fucking pissed him off when people had such low expectations of him.

"Well, baby, if the shoe fits," she said, then backed off seeing his mutinous expression.

She looked at Justin. Always will be a lamb in the lion's den, she thought. "You look tired, Sunshine. He keep you up late last night fucking?"

"And fisting," Brian put in, earning a heated glare from a blushing Justin. 

"Oh," Debbie's mouth made a moue of surprise. She always wondered how often Brian let Sunshine take the reins. Seemed their relationship was more equal than one might think. That Brian let go of some of his famous control when he was alone with Justin. Interesting, she mused.

"Why are you here?" Brian asked bluntly. "Mikey send you?"

That had her shaking her head and sensing troubled waters between her son and his longtime best friend and unrequited love interest. Ah, that explains Michael's reaction this morning, she thought. And Ben's. "Michael knows?"

"Yeah. He came by last night to see why I wasn't going out to Babylon. Found Justin here. Unpleasant little scene." No need to go into the particulars, Brian thought, still angry over his best friend's treatment of Justin or the judgment passed on his choice of extending a rare second chance.

"He didn't say anything at breakfast. Acted a little snotty and irritated when Em and Ted asked about you."

Brian and Justin looked at one another. That's nothing new, Justin thought, tired of Michael's shitty attitude towards him. 

Michael didn't say anything, Brian thought. "Thought the news of us being back together would have hit Liberty Avenue by now. Have all the old queen's tongues wagging." He could think of far better things to do with his own tongue, mouth and lips. Much better things.

"I take it you're trying to keep this quiet?" Although she wanted to shout it from the rooftops, she could understand their wishes. Then a thought occurred to her and she blurted out, "What about Ethan?" She'd never really thought that'd last simply because the poor fiddler was not Brian. Not even in the same hemisphere.

A growl erupted from low in Brian's throat. Justin looked at him, saw that he looked like a wounded lion who was still trying to close in for the kill. "It's over. He cheated on me. I realized I still wanted Brian." Needed Brian. Loved Brian. Love Brian.

So that's how it was, she thought. She noticed how Justin carefully avoided saying he loved Brian which had her wondering if he'd said it since they were back together. "How long?"

"How long what?"

She gave him an exasperated glance. "How long have you do been doing the horizontal tango? What the hell did you think I meant, smart ass?"

"Less than 36 hours," he grumbled. He wanted time alone with his blond and with his son.

Hours not days, she noted. Oh holy fuck. Hours. It was a wonder Brian hadn't bodily removed her from the loft. "I'm gonna go. Leave you two alone to get reacquainted." She brushed her lips against Justin's cheek, saying, "Don't hurt him again, baby."

Stopping near Brian, she caressed his face, leaning in close to whisper, "Don't fuck this up, kiddo."

With those sage words of advice Debbie left, happier than she'd been in weeks. Her two boys were back together and she had a mission: talk to Michael before he dug himself his own grave.

Brian sat down on the couch. Justin moved to sit next to him when he found himself in Brian's lap once again. "Brian," he began.

"Ssh," he whispered, before his mouth dropped to Justin's. The kiss began softly but began to increase in intensity, his hands fisting in Justin's hair, drawing him closer. When he broke the kiss, Justin said, eyes glazed with arousal, "I want you."

"I know, Sonny Boy." He shifted and Justin moved with him, knees bent on either side of Brian's hips. He could feel the rigid line of flesh forming in Justin's pants. "Go jack off," he murmured.

"Wanna watch?"

Brian bit his lip, desire for Justin warring with his responsibility as dad. "Yeah, but I have a son playing on my bed." Intense regret. God, I hope he doesn't stumble onto my box of toys, he thought, then he realized that he'd locked the box. Somehow he didn't think the mommies would appreciate it if his son had an early exposure to man-on-man sex or came home about talking about how Daddy had taken Justin's pee-pee into his mouth. Or what that funny white stuff was. Yeah right. Melanie would have a fit and Lindz would disapprove in her so WASP-y way. And it would be a cold day in hell before the munchers would let him see his son again.

"OK," Justin said, sliding off of him, not unaware of Brian's dilemma. Halfway up the stairs, he turned back, saying only, "It'd be better with your mouth on me, bringing me off."

"Justin," Brian said, in a tone which most would consider irritated. Only those who knew him well would recognize it as pleading. And pleading was not something Brian often did. And often it was only with Justin.

Justin disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Brian sighed. Surely there was something they could do to ease the sexual tension running electric between them. Fucking would do it but that was out of the question. He looked up at the bedroom and realized that Gus had toppled over and was sleeping soundly, probably drooling on his expensive pillow case. Who knew how long Gus'd sleep? And he wouldn't do that to his son even though it was as natural as breathing.

This sucks, he thought. You're in advertising, Kinney. Think of something. Something that interests both of you. Deep in thought, he barely noticed when Justin joined him. 

"Brian," Justin's voice said, jarring him from his thoughts.

"Yeah." Curt. 

"What are we gonna do?"

"Scrabble." He was half-joking but saw Justin's eyes light up. "Christ, I was kidding."

The last time they'd played scrabble it had been during an electrical storm when the lights had gone out and they'd both been fucked out. "C'mon, Bri. It'll be fun."

"Kids," he muttered darkly.

"Old man," he shot back, earning a glare. "What? You afraid? Afraid that I'll beat your ass?"

Justin knew exactly what he was doing. Appealing to Brian's competitive nature that lurked just under the surface. "Okay, little boy," he taunted. "What're we playing for?"

Justin hadn't thought that far. Though he knew that there was always a cost and reward to anything he did with Brian. "If I win I get to fuck you in the backroom at Babylon for a week. And I have you suck me off while I'm getting rimmed, then you fuck me."

Pensively, Justin added, “We try a few things here too. Experiment with a little light B&D. I wouldn’t mind being tied up.” He’d never told Brian about the sling that Sap had wanted to put him in. He’d known that Brian’s reaction wouldn’t have boded well for Sap’s continued existence. “I’m also willing to do anything you want me to do. On one condition. That you do the same thing for me. Regardless. Cause turnabout is fair play.”

Thinking of the platform at Babylon and all the guys who wished they were Justin, Brian saw the appeal of the idea. That wasn't to say that he wanted to see someone else fucking his Sunshine's ass. "Thought you didn't like the games we played," Brian reminded him. He thought Justin's scenario was hot, though he could and planned to easily up the stakes.

"On occasion it was fun," Justin admitted. He remembered some very hot threesomes and foursomes but those pleasurable memories were also overlaid with the memory of the birthday hustler. "I just didn't like making a habit of it. Liked going home when it was just the two of us." He and Brian alone had always been his preference.

Brian knew that with little effort he could make this difficult and make it much more exciting and erotic for him than for Justin. But he wanted to make it fun and hot for Justin. Prove he wasn't a complete narcissistic asshole who lived his life ruled by dick and ass.

"If I win, we go to the baths for a week and I get to pick your fuck buddies. You're never the bottom cause your sweet little ass is mine, Sunshine," he said. So far Justin didn't think this was so bad. "We go to the backroom at Babylon and we give them a full frontal show, no holds barred." He knew that this was a price that Justin might be reluctant to pay since he very rarely stripped down. Brian always just had his jeans down mid-thigh level but he'd never been fully nude while Brian took him in front of an audience. Knew they'd be giving the guys in the backroom a very erotic and rare show of their own. Seeing what Kinney went home to every night.

Justin started to protest then realized that it was little different than what went on in the rooms at the baths. Just a different surrounding and it wasn't as if it hadn't happened before. "And," he continued, "we give Daphne and Cynthia a floor show they'll never forget."

Brian wasn't quite through. He knew how many times his assistant had imagined him fucking another guy. It was probably one of Cynthia's favorite fantasies. And he knew that Daphne had thought about it considering all the times she'd stumbled into the loft and found them in flagrante delicto.

"Anything else?" Justin asked, unsure that he really wanted to know.

"We go to Pistol once so you can see what it's like being dominated by someone other than me. Then we come back here and you demonstrate on me what you've learned."

Hot, extremely hot. Dominating Brian was always an experience since it happened so rarely. Combustible combination, he thought. He knew Daphne had been curious ever since she'd first seen Brian in all his masculine glory. And Cynthia, well Cynthia, had the hots for her gorgeous but unattainable boss. Besides it might be fun.

"Before I agree," Justin said, knowing he would, "are you sure that you'll be able to face Cynthia at the office after knowing she's seen you fucking me?"

Brian smirked. "Wouldn't be the first time. How many times do you think she's covered for me when the office reeked of sex? She knows me. And she still gives me shit despite seeing me in all manner of compromising positions." Bitch, he thought. But this’ll be a chance to see me in my element. One night only. There wasn’t a chance in hell that Cynthia would turn this opportunity down.

But those were tricks, Justin thought. And I'm not, right? A question he wanted to ask but wouldn't.

"Deal," Justin said. "Oh, Brian. We do this thing with Daphne and Cyn, the girls' will want a tape for their own masturbatory pleasure."

"I know," Brian tossed over one shoulder. He fully intended on making their own tape. It was something they hadn't done before and he thought it'd be fun to fuck while watching the video image of themselves fucking. He returned with the Scrabble game, having avoided disturbing his sleeping son.

Setting it up on the coffee table then said, "Want a beer?" Anything, especially Scrabble, was better with an infusion of alcohol. 

Justin nodded.

Returning with their beers, he said, "Last chance to back out."

"Not a chance in hell, Kinney. Bring it on."

Twenty minutes later, Justin knew despite his 1500 verbal score that Brian was going to win. Game. Set. Match. Determined to be a gracious loser, he said, "So when do you want to do this?" just as Brian said the same thing.

"I lost," Justin reminded him, eyes locking on Brian's.

"We both won," he corrected gently, hoping Justin would get what he was trying to say. Replace that memory with this one.

"Oh," Justin said, understanding dawning. He downed the rest of his beer.

"One more thing, Sunshine. This show for Cynthia and Daphne is no holds barred. No regrets. No apologies."

Justin inched closer to him, licking up his throat as Brian tilted his head backward. "You taste good. Salty and sweet." Familiar tastes. Tastes he'd missed, tastes that were simply and utterly Brian's.

Brian smiled, started to say something when he heard a wailed, "Daddy!"

Brian gave Justin a rueful look then hit the stairs at a near-lope. Reaching his son's side, he cuddled him, saying, "It's okay, sonny boy. You're okay. Daddy's here."

The tears stopped and a small voice said, " I hungry."

"What's with the little voice, kiddo?" Brian asked. "You get scared?"

"Uh huh." Gus sniffled.

Justin stopped at the top of the stairs, stunned speechless. He remembered when Brian had asked him the same question, except then it had been more of an accusation. "You want something to drink, Gus?" 

The small head nodded, then said, "Gotta pee first."

"Okay. Need help?" Brian asked, images of an accident flashing through his mind. Uh uh, not on my watch, he thought.

"I can do it, Daddy."

Nevertheless Brian followed him into the bathroom, raising the toilet lid, and getting a footstool for him to stand on. Once done and hands were washed, the two Kinney men joined Justin in the kitchen. As he watched Justin with his son, he thought that nothing had ever seemed so right. It was days like this when Brian wished he hadn't signed away his rights to Melanie. After all, Gus was a Kinney by blood, a Marcus in name only. The proof that the Kinney legacy could do good, that the line wasn't tainted by John Rory Kinney. Proof that Brian's blood wasn't cursed to a life of unhappiness, that Gus was saved by being half-Peterson.

With Gus settled in at the counter with a two-handled cup of juice, Brian took a moment to study his lover. Justin, too, had changed while they were apart. He'd lost the last of the little boy, evolving into a man. Though, Brian knew, he wasn't really a kid when I took him home that first night. A man who, Brian knew, would challenge him, inspire him, and frustrate him, while arousing him to fever pitch.

"What do you want for dinner, Little Man?"

"Pizza," came the answer without hesitation.

"That'd be your influence," Brian remarked, thinking of the carbs, as Justin simply smirked.

"How 'bout you, Daddy? You want Thai?"

Brian leaned across the counter, feeling the shot to his balls. Strange thing to get turned on by, he thought, vaguely uncomfortable with the idea that in some ways he was a paternal figure to Justin. He realized that Justin hadn't meant it in that way, that he was just calling Brian "daddy" in front of Gus. "I thought you were going to cook," just as Gus said, "Kiss Jus'n, Daddy."

Brian and Justin looked at each other, a familiar gleam in Brian's eyes. His mouth crushed down on Justin's. The kiss had Gus clapping and left the two men breathless. As Brian drew away, Justin gently nipped his bottom lip, tongue soothing the bite.

Once Justin trusted his voice, he said, "Don't have the stuff for pizza. I'll make you a special meal tomorrow night."

"Promise?" When did I start to expect him to give me any promises? Maybe when he broke all of his rules, Brian thought, a vestigial trace of bitterness remaining.

"Yeah, I promise," he responded, knowing it was Brian's way of asking if he was planning on sticking around or bolting.

"Hey, Sonny Boy, what kind of pizza do you want?"

"Pep'roni," Gus said.

He looked to Justin. "Supreme and cheese."

"Cheese. Two larges and one medium," he winked at Justin.

He noticed that Brian had scooted his chair closer to Gus to make sure that if the little boy made a sudden move he'd be there to catch him. "You want to watch a movie?" Brian and Gus looked at him, both wearing identical expressions, that had Justin laughing.

"Yeah, movie, Daddy. Movie."

Resigned to spending the afternoon watching kiddie fare, Brian scooped up his son who squirmed a bit in his arms. "Down Daddy," he insisted. "Want Nemo."

Okay, Brian thought, that was okay. Finding Nemo was okay. He could tolerate the fish though Ellen bugged the shit out of him. At least, it wasn't Rescuers Down Under or whatever that shit was. Behind him, he heard Justin say, "Nemo sounds good."

"Grab some pillows," he said, rifling through discs making sure his body shielded Gus from some of the raunchier titles of his extensive porn collection. Finally finding the movie his son wanted, he removed it from the jewel case and popped it in the DVD player. Gus sat waiting expectantly.

When Justin joined them in the living room, Brian had slid the coffee table up against the wall, creating more room. Justin situated the pillows in a manner that had Brian smiling. Silly boy, he thought. You'll just end up laying on me. It struck him that he always wanted to fuck Justin when he lay on his lap and he never ever wanted to do the same thing when Michael ended up in the same position. I'll bitch at first but then I end up going with the flow. When did I become so predictable?

He noticed Justin carried a sketch pad and took a brief moment to wonder who'd be his subject: him or Gus, or maybe both. "Hey, Sonny Boy," he said, and two faces turned towards him, both wearing open and trusting expressions. And adoration if he was completely honest with himself. He knew Justin adored him for reasons that mystified him. What have I ever done to deserve him? And just when he'd thought he could count on it, that his life was somehow secure, that he could allow himself to be loved it was gone, in the blink of an eye. And he'd been left there with nothing, feeling as if his world had just collapsed, as if everything he was had been refused. As if once again he were being rejected and told that he wasn't good enough to be loved.

Fuck, he thought, this is why I don't believe in love. Mood suddenly dark, he didn't see the way Justin was looking at him. Or that both Justin and his son had crept closer to him. Gus, because Daddy looked sad; Justin, because he figured Brian needed to know he wasn't going anywhere. He knew were he to tell Brian he loved him that the other man wouldn't believe him. More than that, it wasn't the right time. Too soon. Way too soon. Even though Justin knew deep in his bones that the closeness, connection to Brian was part of the reason things hadn’t worked with Ethan. It hadn’t been right. Not when you’re with the wrong person for the wrong reasons. Or as an escape from the problems of a relationship with a party who is unsure of how one works.

“Daddy,” Gus said, kissing his daddy’s chin. It felt funny, kind of scratchy. But he still smelled like Daddy and it made him feel safe, protected. He felt different with his Mommy and Mama.

Tearing his attention from his dark thoughts, he focused his attention on his son and his lov—no, that wasn’t right. Boyfriend---no, that didn’t seem quite right. And, partner, definitely wasn’t right. He wasn’t quite sure what that meant, that he couldn’t or wouldn’t define what Justin was to him. But Justin certainly wasn’t a fuck buddy as Melanie had all but implied earlier. Too soon. Too fucking soon. Have to see if this is real. If this will last.

He met Justin’s eyes, saw the question in them, and shook his head slightly. Fuck me, Brian thought. Do I really want to do this again? Then he looked at Justin again and felt his heart plummet. Yep. God help me.

“Movie, Daddy,” Gus said, and Brian realized the damn thing hadn’t started yet. That probably had something to do with the fact that he hadn’t pushed the tray back in to the player.

Christ, I’m getting old, he thought disgustedly, wincing as he stood to get the remote. “Want anything while I’m up?”

“Soda,” Justin said, distracted. He’s not okay, he thought, aware that whatever they still had to work through would not be resolved in one day or possibly ever, for that matter. Rome, after all, did not fall in one day.

“Sonny Boy.”

“What, Daddy?” Gus asked, wanting Nemo. Grown-ups were weird and thought too much.

“Nothing, baby.”

The endearment had both son and Justin looking at him as if he’d suddenly morphed into a hydra. “What?” he asked, scowling.

Gus was still a baby, damn it. And he called Justin that on occasion. Granted they were rare but sometimes that word was like a key that would only fit a particular lock. Can’t I be sentimental without being made to feel an ass? He thought, fully aware that he was sulking. And probably pouting.

“Bri?”

“What?” he snapped.

“The movie. God, you’re grumpy.” Justin said, realizing that he’d forgotten about Brian’s sudden and unexpected mood shifts. It wasn’t lying to say that he could be mercurial at times.

“Wrong movie,” he snarked but got the point. Leaving them in the living room, he crossed to the refrigerator to retrieve a soda for Justin.

Once they were all settled with Justin leaning back against him, Brian hit the play button as Gus snuggled up against him. Funny how it’s the simple things that can cause the strongest people to break or crack a little, letting people inside. Gus was engrossed in the story and looking down at Justin he saw the teen was too. But Justin wouldn’t be a teen much longer. I have to do something about that, he thought. Even he recognized that twenty was a big milestone. No fucking hustlers, he thought. Christ, why did I ever think that was a good idea?

Forty-five minutes in and both of Brian’s boys were deeply snuggling into him and he realized he didn’t really mind. Then the telephone rang. Hoping fervently it wasn’t the munchers calling to rip him a new asshole (because he liked the one he had, thank you very much), Brian eased out from behind Justin, leaving the teen cuddling his son.

“Yeah,” he answered gruffly, aware he was short. Then it softened a bit, “Hey, gorgeous girl. How you been?”

The appellation had Justin looking up. He met Brian’s eyes and he mouthed Daphne. “He didn’t, huh?” There was a wicked gleam in his eye that Justin recognized as he said, “Well, there are some tricks with your tongue you ought to try. Find the place just beneath the head where he’ll be begging you for more. And, by the way, you should make sure up front that he knows you might move away before he comes. That way he doesn’t get pissed that you don’t swallow.”

Oh, fuck, Justin thought, eyes grown wide. Brian’s giving her sex tips. Before Brian could launch into the finer tips of fellatio or positions from the Kama Sutra, Justin grabbed the telephone from him, saying, “Hi, Daph. What’s up?” He figured she’d get first-hand knowledge soon enough of just what drove a man, or Brian, wild.

He listened a moment, face going pale. “No, Daph. That’s okay. I’m not pissed. I understand she gave you no choice.”

The use of the female pronoun had Brian arching both eyebrows up towards his hairline. There was only one female in Justin’s life who had the ability to make him respond like that: Jennifer Taylor. Truth was Jennifer kind of scared Brian as much as he respected her for allowing her baby bird to leave the nest. For him. Even when he’d been dead set against the mere idea of a relationship. And certainly not with a seventeen-year-old kid. Now he wondered how long it would’ve been before he drank and fucked himself into oblivion. Did Justin coming into my life actually save me? He wondered. But that would mean that his meeting Justin was part of a plan and not simply an odd twist of fate. That there was some design to it, that there was an architect who plotted points in everyone’s life. 

He heard him say, “Brian won’t be pissed,” then sought Justin’s eyes. Mouth gone dry, he mouthed, “Tell her not to worry.”

Justin conveyed the message and broke the connection. His steps slow, almost sluggish, Justin slid down next to Brian, limbs rubbery. “My mom knows. Dammit, Brian, I wanted more time. Time to ease into telling her.”

“I know, baby,” the endearment slid out before Brian could stop it. Verbal diarrhea, he thought. But somehow the endearment fit the situation.

“Brian, you called me---”

“Baby. We’re alone for Christ’s sake. Somehow I don’t think Gus is gonna rat me out.” Damn, he thought, temper crackling like a live wire.

The look in his eyes made Justin decide to just roll with it. Sometimes it was better, safer for lack of a better word, not to question Brian’s motivations. “She kept pushing Daphne until she broke. Seems she called Daphne’s and found out that he and I broke up. That I was with you.”

Brian could just imagine Justin’s mom’s reaction to the news. Christ. “How much time you figure we got?”

Whatever answer Justin might have given was lost to time as the intercom for the downstairs door sounded. Crossing to the intercom, Brian looked at Justin, saw the last vestiges of the little boy in the man Justin had become. He realized that he’d never seen Justin as a child, not really. Justin had once said he was the most mature person Brian knew and it was true. He gave Justin a rueful smile. He would have preferred more time.

“Babylon on Wednesday,” Brian said, before depressing the intercom. “Door’s open.” He joined Justin on the sofa to wait for Jennifer Taylor’s knock. He knew that the last time she’d dropped in on them, she’d found them in bed, Justin’s eyes blindfolded as he loomed over him. Thank God, Brian remembered, we weren’t using the handcuffs or the night stick. He thought that might have sent her over the edge into a mental state. No matter what they couldn’t wrap themselves in a cocoon of isolation. Life didn’t work that way. Their life certainly didn’t work that way.

For the moment he’d forgotten about Gus. But the little boy made his presence known when he said, “Daddy, the movie.”

“Go sit on the pillows and I’ll restart it. Justin’s mommy is coming so can you watch the movie quietly?”

Daddy can be silly sometimes, Gus thought. “Yes, Daddy,” he said patiently. His tone made Justin smile. It was the one Brian himself used when someone did or said something he thought incredibly stupid or pathetic.

When the knock came a few minutes later, it was Brian who rose to answer the door, feeling as if he were expecting the inquisition. Why do I always feel like an errant child around her? Why do I always feel like I’m Hannibal fucking Lecter to her? Just because I'm fucking her baby boy. Ah, he thought, that just might be it.


	9. Finding a Way Back

Sliding the loft door open, he said, “Mrs. Taylor.” His tone was formal and a little cold, even for him. His nerves jangled. He and Justin were both adults, he reminded himself. Both consenting adults with very healthy libidos.

Justin joined Brian at the door. As Jennifer watched, her son took hold of Brian’s hand, fingers lacing. Such a simple, casual gesture but one that bespoke of the intimacy between the two men. “Hi, honey,” Jennifer said, watching her son carefully. Displaying no visible reaction, she noted. As if he wore a mask. She often wondered if Justin realized he did that and that it was an echo of Brian’s own blankness at times.

“Mom.”

“Brian,” she said, noticing just how tense he seemed. She knew she made him uncomfortable. Truth was he made her a bit nervous too. And she’d seen him naked on more occasions than she could count so the lingering tension between them was odd. “Call me Jennifer.”

He nodded, relaxing a bit. What do you want? “Want something to drink? Why don’t you go sit?”

“Soda, if you have it.” It was a shot of tequila she’d have preferred and somehow she figured Brian knew that.

“Sunshine?” Brian directed the question to Justin who nodded.

“I’ll get it. Brian, you want anything?”

As Brian’s first response was searing sarcasm, his second to head for the liquor cart, he said, “Perrier.” He knew he’d had the beer earlier but he knew that for this he was required to have a clear head.

Jennifer noticed the easy way the two men interacted. She hadn’t seen Justin that comfortable in a long time. And Brian was always comfortable in his own skin. A little too much, she thought, remembering the day she’d come to ask him to help her son. Brian had been unabashed about his nudity or the fact that he'd just finished fucking someone, while she’d felt her face grow hot.

She saw the television was on with a movie playing. Finding Nemo, she thought. Molly had taken her to go see that, she remembered. Then she noticed the young boy and it dawned on her. Brian was hanging out with his son. Turning to him, she asked, “Is that your son?”

“Yes, that’s Gus,” he said, meeting her eyes directly. “Would you like to meet him?”

Recognizing the gesture for what it was, she nodded. This wasn’t how she’d thought this would go. She hated that her son seemed to boomerang right back to Brian Kinney but she’d given up thinking that it was a simple flirtation or infatuation for either of them. And she remembered her teenage son standing in the kitchen facing off with her and Craig. Saying that he loved Brian more than anything in the world. She wondered if Brian realized just how much of an impact he had on her son. Probably so, she acknowledged, wondering why that didn’t bother her as much as it had once. That wasn’t to say that she wouldn’t be pleased as punch if Justin found someone younger, less emotionally guarded. So her answer was a long time coming. “Yes, I’d like to meet him.”

“Hey, Sonny Boy.”

When the little boy turned towards his father, Brian said, “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

She felt a tap on her shoulder and Justin handed her a glass of soda. Then he handed Brian the bottle of Perrier. Jennifer watched as Brian’s son made his way over to her on legs that wobbled just a bit. He looked up at her with very expressive eyes and she felt her heart melt a little. That made her wonder if this was what Brian had looked like as a child. She felt sure it was. 

“Gus, this is Justin’s mommy. Her name is Jen.”

“Hi, Jen,” Gus said, with just a hint of shyness. And with those simple words she was entranced by Brian’s son.

Brian’s eyes found Justin and, without speaking, Justin crossed to his side. Arm casually looped around each other, they watched as Gus climbed up on Jennifer’s lap and she laughed a little. She looked at Brian and said, “Your son is beautiful, Brian.”

“Thank you, Mrs.---Jen,” he amended. Of course he is. Maybe someday, he hoped, Gus will call you Grandma. God knew he’d keep him away from his own mother as long was humanly possible. Lindsay’s parents weren’t much better, he thought. 

She smiled at him. There were so many things she wanted to say but none of it seemed quite appropriate with her son’s lover’s son sitting on her lap. It would simply have to wait.

“So you came here for a reason, Mom. What is it?” Justin had no qualms about coming straight to the point.

“Daphne told me you were here. That you’d reconciled. I came to see if that was true,” she said, lifting her arm so Gus could better situate himself. “I thought you were happy with Ethan, honey. What happened?” Looking at Brian, “Sorry, Brian.”

Brian felt his features rearrange themselves in a scowl but said nothing. Fucking fiddler. So much time lost. The only consolation was that Justin felt the same way he did. Hindsight is always 100%, he reminded himself. That wasn’t to say that he didn’t wonder what would’ve happened if they’d spoken to each other that night in the backroom when they’d run across each other. He'd known as the trick had gone down on him that they were both wishing it was each other they were with instead. “It’s okay, Jen. Seems everyone’s asking about Ian today.”

That simple statement had her nearly smiling. Brian knew damn well what his name was but he wasn’t about to say it, she realized. There was more he could have said but didn’t.

Sighing, Justin said only, “He cheated on me, Mom.”

So infidelity caused Ethan and my son to break up, she thought. She wondered what Justin would say if he knew of his own father’s affairs. “So how did this thing happen with Brian?” Is it real this time, she wondered. Can he and Brian make it work? For her son’s sake, she hoped he and Brian were more successful than she and Craig had been.

Both were relieved that she didn’t bring up the fact that Brian fucked around. And probably always would. “Well, I started at Vanguard about two months ago.”

Jennifer’s well-manicured eyebrow arched. She was a little stunned at her son’s brazen behavior. “Isn’t that Brian’s agency?”

Brian nodded as Justin said, “Yes, it’s Brian’s agency. I talked to the head of the Fine Arts Department at the Institute to see if I could move up my internship. When they agreed I sent a letter of interest to Vanguard. They accepted me on my merits. They knew nothing of my prior relationship with Brian.”

Jennifer glanced at Brian, whose eyes had bled to mossy green, and remarked tentatively, “It must’ve surprised you to see Justin.”

“Surprise wasn’t the word. I was pretty ticked off,” Brian said, wishing rather desperately for a hit of nicotine. It had been a rather gutsy move, he acknowledged. If the circumstances had been different, he might have locked the door of his office and fucked him right then and there. It had occurred to him.

“Did you suggest a different agency at which Justin might do his internship?”

“Yes, but Justin pointed out that Vanguard was the best. I knew he’d learn the most there.” Not to mention I was there.

“What did Gardner say about you allowing an ex-lover to intern in your own department?” She knew Gardner Vance wasn’t exactly the most tolerant of gays. And Brian was more open than most in a field dominated by straight men.

Identical expressions of amazement crossed their faces. “Uh, Mom, just how do you know Gardner Vance?” She’d never mentioned a connection to Brian’s boss before.

“He and his wife, Camille, used the agency to find their home when they moved from New York. A colleague was their realtor. She asked me to come on a couple of showings and I formed a quick impression of him.”

Intrigued now, Brian asked, “What did you think of him?”

“Pompous, overbearing, an annoying tendency to capitulate when pressed. I thought him a terrible boor and he had a decided lack of balls,” she admitted. “Also not very tolerant of gays.”

Brian laughed. “Jen, you are a woman after my own heart. To answer your question, no one at Vanguard knows about my previous rel---involvement---with Justin or our present involvement. Except Cynthia, my assistant.”

Jennifer remembered Cynthia from the day she’d stormed into Brian’s office with a bag of Justin’s stuff and a check. She’d formed a quick impression of the younger blonde as fiercely loyal to Brian and a woman who had a slight bit of a crush on her handsome boss. It did not escape her attention that he’d used involvement rather than relationship. “Honey, don’t you think it’d be better for you to finish your internship at a different agency? It would be terrible for Brian if your involvement became public knowledge.”

“Mom,” he began but stopped at a look from Brian.

“Jen, it might raise more flags were Justin to end his internship now. And I think he and I can keep things quiet.” Okay, so that was wishful thinking. It was going to be the most difficult challenge of his life to keep things strictly professional when at the office.

“I’d just hate to see you jeopardize your career,” she continued, “since I know how hard you’ve worked for it.” She rather doubted that. A blind man could sense their chemistry. The attraction they each held for the other.

“How do you know how hard I’ve worked, Jen?” An edge crept into his voice.

Oh hell, she thought, as Gus wriggled out of her lap, bored by adult conversation. “I did some research,” she admitted, as Gus returned to sitting near the television, just out of earshot. “I talked to Debbie. Hired a private investigator.”

“Mom!” Justin said, aghast. He couldn’t believe his mom had done such a thing. Invaded Brian’s privacy like that.

Brian, however, understood. It burned him a little to have his past looked into. There were things he’d done that he would prefer remain buried. Things he wasn’t too proud of but wasn’t ashamed of. Decisions he’d made when he was a naive youth just emerging from the closet and experiencing life to the fullest. Taking the world by the balls, as it were, in many different arenas. 

“It’s okay, Justin. Your mom was just looking out for you.” His calm expression belied his words. “I’d have done the same thing if some older man or woman took an interest in Gus at an impressionable age.”

Jennifer studied Brian. There were less than fifteen years between them, she acknowledged. She was barely twelve years older than Brian. So she could understand the allure the handsome and charismatic man held for her son. Now the blush of first love had worn off and they were working towards something more. Something deeper and more real. There were so many layers and facets to the man it was no wonder he’d been called an enigma. “So how long have you two been back together?”

“About 36 hours,” Brian’s voice was arctic.

“36 hours,” she repeated. “Hours.” The color drained from her face much as it had from Debbie’s earlier. Oh shit, she thought. They’re trying to get things straight and worked out and I barge in. “I’m going to go. We can talk later,” she said, looking at her son. “Brian, walk me down to the car.”

Since it was as much a request as an order, Brian nodded. “Sure. Hey, Sonny Boy.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Come say goodbye to Jen, Justin’s mommy.”

Gus came to give her a hug, saying, “Bye, Jen.”

“Bye, kiddo. Have fun with your Daddy, okay.”

“Okay,” he agreed, kissing her cheek.

“Hey, Justin, keep an eye on Gus. I’m going to walk your mom out.” He was curious and a little wary of what she might say to him.

Brian walked her to the loft door, following her outside. Once in the elevator, she laid a hand on his arm. “Thanks for walking me out.”

“Sure,” he said, wondering why she hadn’t asked Justin.

They were fairly silent for the remainder of the elevator ride. When they reached the late model Acura Integra, Brian finally said, “Okay, Mrs.—Jen, what’s bothering you?” He took a deep breath. “You going to tell me that Justin and I shouldn’t be together. That I’m going to fuck up his life again. That this is a mistake. Or that you think I’m going to hurt him. Again.”

Her next words shocked the hell out of Brian. It was as if she were taking a page out of Debbie Novotny’s book. “No, baby, I don’t think this is wrong or a mistake. If I recall correctly, my son is the one who hurt you.” Badly if I’m not mistaken. She could tell that the one chink in Brian’s well-maintained armor was the presence of her son.

“I wasn’t hurt.”

“The man doth protest too much,” she quoted, paraphrasing a bit.

“Don’t quote fucking Shakespeare to me. I wasn’t hurt.” Who am I trying to convince? I was fucking devastated. 

Jennifer backed off. She didn’t have to see sharks to know she was in dangerous, treacherous waters. “I think we need to talk.”

“I really hate that phrase,” he said, glumly.

“I’m sure you do. Brian, you’re in my son’s life. You aren’t going anywhere. I think I need to get to know you. So I’m suggesting we have lunch. No expectations.”

“That’s one of my lines,” he reminded her. Though it made him nervous and slightly nauseous, he could see the logic in what she was suggesting. At least, she hadn’t questioned the feelings he had for her son. “Okay, lunch. I assume you want to talk about the stuff your private dick dug up on me. Probably a lot of shit there.” He hesitated before adding,” Thank you for not just giving the file to Justin. For giving me a chance.”

“I know you care about my son. I wouldn’t have just given him the file.”

“Craig would have,” Brian pointed out, bitterness dripping like molasses from his tone.

Yes, my fucking asshole of an ex-husband would have, she thought. “I’m not Craig.”

“He tried to kill me and he never went to see Justin after he got hurt.” Brian reminded her, pain evident in his tone, the depth of emotion clear and unfeigned.

And it was you who walked the halls like a phantom every night. You, he called out for. Some of that she decided to say aloud, “And it was you who was there every night watching my baby sleep.” She took a tentative step closer to him, gently touching his cheek. “He needs you, Brian.”

“Not as much as I need him,” he said, voice shaking.

“I know. And when the time is right you’ll tell him you love him.” That was as clear to her as day as were the reasons Brian hadn’t. And might not ever say it though it was clear to her the depth of Brian's feelings for her son.

He met her eyes. “Everybody else thinks I should have told him already.”

She suppressed a sigh. “When have you ever done what they think you ought to? You fell in love with a teenage boy when the whole world, including me, was telling you that you ought to be ashamed of yourself. Then your world collapsed when the one person you let get the closest to you left you. Denied and rejected everything you were offering. I know you think I don’t like you, Brian. Maybe that was true once. But I do understand you. You do things on your own timetable. Have a clearly defined set of what is right and wrong, a moral philosophy that you live by. Trust your own instincts.”

“My instincts, huh?” he said, touched by her words. He had expected her to cut him down like so much wheat.

“Yeah. Even when they tell you to hold him when you’d rather be fucking him. Or talk when you’d rather be out at the club losing yourself in the music. You’re a good judge of character, Brian. And you have a good character.”

Strange to hear her talk so openly about him fucking her son. How things have changed, he thought, somewhat mollified.

“I’m not going to dig, Brian. I don’t get any sort of perverse pleasure out of seeing you or my son hurt. I know you have feelings. And I know that you care as deeply about my son as he does about you. You wouldn’t have given him a second chance if you didn’t want him back in your life.”

Okay, she knows me a little too well, he thought, shocked. “I’ll try,” he said, smiling. “How do you feel about a late lunch on Tuesday?”

It was Jennifer’s turn to smile. “I’ll clear my calendar. Justin has my cell number. Just call to confirm or have Cynthia do it.”

“I’ll call to confirm,” he said, making sure that she knew the emphasis was on the I. 

“Brian,” she said, as he turned back towards the building.

“Yeah.”

“Thanks for listening. Good luck.” Surprisingly enough, she meant it. She hoped that the gods were smiling down on her son and Brian.

In the end, he stood at the base of the stairs watching her drive off. Strange how things turn out, he mused. Strange that the woman who had once viewed him as the worst thing that had ever happened to her son was now all but endorsing their relationship. Brian turned to return upstairs, feeling somewhat lighter.


	10. Finding a Way Back

Brian took his time returning to the loft, thinking about what Jennifer had said to him. It wasn't a ringing endorsement but at least she no longer thought of him as the Antichrist. He was deep in thoughts when he slid the loft door closed.

"You okay?" Justin asked. He'd been more than a little nervous when his mom had asked to speak to him alone. He remembered the last time his mom had cornered Brian. Then it had been to ask him to stay away from him. He only hoped that she wasn't running interference this time.

"I'm fine, Sunshine. I'm having lunch with your mom on Tuesday."

"What?!"

Brian sank down next to him on the couch. "She wants to get to know me better." The idea struck him as strange. "So we're having lunch. You know, that meal between breakfast and dinner." The idea baffled him.

Justin swatted him. "Don't be a smart ass. So you're having lunch with Mom. You scared?"

Brian met his eyes. "Yeah. I'm fucking terrified." Funny thing was he wasn't sure if he was scared or not. The idea hadn't really sunk in.

Justin smiled at the expression on his face. It was always interesting to see his reaction when he was taken out of his comfort zone. Lunch with Mom is definitely taking Brian out of his comfort zone, he thought.

"So you still want to go to Babylon on Wednesday?"

"It's Latin night," Brian said. "Salsa. The mambo. The lambada," he leered. 

Then Justin said, "I don't think we can keep this quiet much longer, Brian. I don't want to be creeping in shadows because we don't want to be judged."

"I've never cared what anybody else thought," Brian said. "But I think it's time we proved a point to Liberty Avenue. And besides, it'll give the boys something to talk about at breakfast on Monday morning."

"What do you have in mind?" Justin asked.

Brian smiled mischeviously. "Well, I was thinking you could come in and sit down on my lap. Then we could proceed to make out until Debbie comes swatting at us with a dish towel. And we can give the boys in the backroom a reminder of just why it is that we are the two kings of Babylon."

"And at the office?"

Brian's mood turned serious. "Your mom's right, Sunshine. We have to be careful. That's not to say that you and I can't have an occasional quickie. I wouldn't mind you coming in and surprising me with a blow job. I've found that having an orgasm at least twice a day during the work day makes me more productive," he said, teasingly. "But it's important that people not clue in to the fact that we're fucking each other. I'm a partner but Gardner will always have superiority over me. And, damn if he doesn't wield that power with relish."

"I'm not going to blow this for you."

Brian looked down at his lap, then up at Justin, "Well, you might just blow one part of me."

Glancing over at Gus, Justin said, "You're kind of glad the Munchers are picking him up tonight, aren't you? Instead of in the morning."

"Truthfully?"

Justin nodded.

"Yeah, I am. I love spending time with Gus but I want to fuck you all night long. I want to take the time to savor you like we didn't do last night at the office. I want the opportunity to make you writhe with need," Brian said. Then he met Justin's eyes. "It's time to let everyone know that we're back together."

"Are we?"

"Are we what?"

"Are we back together?"

"Yeah in a way," Brian said. Don't turn this into a relationship discussion, Sunshine. It's too fucking early for that.

Content with that for now, Justin slid closer to him. They glanced over at Gus and saw that he'd collapsed on one of the pillows, the television screen gone blue as the end of the credits had rolled. "How long has he been asleep?"

"Not long. I'm sure I can fix him mac and cheese for dinner. I got some of that Velveeta shells and cheese kind. He prefers that to Kraft."

"Smart kid."

"As if any product of your genes would be less than a veritable genius," Justin said, knowing just how to stroke Brian's ego and other parts of the man's anatomy.

"You're good with my kid," he observed.

"Thanks, he's a good kid." Justin paused a moment, "You know I'd like one of my own someday. It bothers you when Melanie calls you an asshole in front of him."

"You got that, huh?"

Justin merely rolled his eyes. God save me from a sarcastic Brian. 

"Yeah, it does. It fucking pisses me off when she cuts off my balls like that in front of Gus. He's still my fucking kid. It's my seed that made that little miracle happen and she's content to think it happened as if by immaculate fucking conception. But Gus is not a Christ child. He's a Kinney." He took a deep breath realizing that he was still smarting from the earlier encounter. "I'm trying my damndest to be a good father. It's not like Jack was any example of what fatherhood should be. What kind of impact will it have on him to know that one of his mommies hates his father?"

Justin lay his hand on top of Brian's, his head resting on his shoulder. "Lindsay makes sure he knows that you love him."

"And yet she lets her wife take my fucking balls every chance she gets. You know Melanie turned me down as a father for their second kid. Turned down the opportunity for Gus to at least have a half-sibling because it was me. Melanie resents the hell out of me and didn't want my sperm. It's not as if I were thrilled with the idea. But I was willing to do it. For Gus. And yet they turned to Michael. Michael whose partner has AIDS. Do you know how fucked up that is? Don't get me wrong, I like Ben. I think he's a great guy. Hell, I even fucked Ben, but I'm negative. And I'm always careful. What happens if the condom breaks and Michael gets a full shot of Ben's load?"

Since Justin agreed he simply nodded. There wasn't much he could say to that.

"I wonder why Lindsay asked me to father her child. She could have gone to a fucking sperm bank. It's kind of hard to get an erection in a sterile clinic where the only incentives are a stack of cum-stained Hustler magazines or Penthouse. Not a dick in sight." There were times he wondered why the hell he'd agreed. If Michael was right and it was simply because he'd been high as fuck when Lindsay had asked.

Wow, he's really pissed, Justin thought. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Brian this wound up. In fact, he usually got colder the angrier he got but this fire was definitely burning hot. This was like a cold fire. "Would have made Melanie happy I suppose." Justin felt Brian's arm go around him, pulling him closer.

"You think Lindz did it to piss Melanie off?"

"No, I think she didn't think I'd actually agree. I think she thought that I'd say yes then back out at the last minute." He remembered sitting in the hospital room with her the night Gus had been born, saying that he'd have fucked her if he didn't think her lover would beat the shit out of him. It had been a joke but there was truth to the comment also.

Justin snorted. 

"What?"

"Just that you slept with her. More than once if you two are to be believed," he pointed out. "You'd think she'd know better than to underestimate you. You are Brian Kinney, after all."

"And Mini-Me over there has my genetic pool running through his veins. I'm the spawn of Black Jack and Saint Joan. What chance does Gus have?"

"Bri, you're not your dad," he said, reminded of the events of the previous night which had led to a miniature meltdown. Showing him a side of Brian which had alarmed him because it was so well-disguised.

Brian leaned back against the pillow cushion, looking absolutely dejected. "I just don't want to fuck it up. I don't want to fuck him up. I don't want him coming back to me twenty years down the road and hating me for not being around more. I want him to be proud of me."

The way your dad should have been of you, Justin thought. Funny how both of us are still wishing for the approval of our father's. Not to mention that of one from beyond the grave, he realized. He wondered just what had happened all those nights Brian would disappear and return home drunk as shit, talking nonsense about RBI's or the men at the union. Now, he realized, that was because Brian had spent time with Jack. How badly did our fathers fuck us up? He asked himself.

Brian knew he'd never really expressed his fears about Gus to anyone. Not even Michael. It meant a lot to him to be a good father especially since no one thought he would be. Brian stood, hunted for the pack of cigarettes, finally finding a pack squished between two seat cushions. Lighting one, he took a drag before handing it to Justin. "Could be a joint but I'm being good." Could be a fucking line, he thought.

Changing the subject seemed like a good idea so he said, "You ever get scared?"

"Like Freddy Krueger scared?"

Trust Brian to make a joke when he was asking a serious question. "No scared. Like bone deep scared."

Interesting that Justin asks me a question Stockwell asked me, Brian thought. He remembered getting in the hot tub with the smug, oily politician and feeling as though he were being bathed in acid. He'd never felt so unclean in his life; not even at one of the orgy rooms in the baths. But that wasn't what Justin wanted to know. Deciding to forego a glib answer in favor of the truth, he said, "Yeah. The night of the prom." 

He could still feel the intensity and animosity of the students staring at him as he'd entered the ballroom. Thirty years old and he'd been scared down to the marrow. Scared of his feelings and what he was revealing to Justin. And of people's reactions. "I was terrified that I was going to be asked to leave. That I was making things worse for you." God, how many times have I relived that night in my head? How many times have I thought that I made the wrong decision? That standing there in that tux I'd never felt more naked in my life. Exposed myself to you for a moment of pure happiness that you don't remember and that I can't ever forget. But, of course, he didn't say any of that.

Meanwhile back at Muncher Villa…

Lindsay sank down on the sofa, kicking off her three-inch stiletto heels. Her feet ached and she could hear Melanie slamming around in the kitchen. The other woman slammed a cupboard door so hard she could hear the hinges squeak.

"Melanie, stop it."

Melanie blazed in, a small ball of barely contained fury. "Stop what, honey?" Sarcasm seeped from her like perfume.

"It's clear you're angry." Understatement of the year.

"No, I'm fucking pissed. You always, always put that asshole first. Do you still love him? Is that it? Are you secretly wishing that Brian would come riding in on a white charger and whisk you away to a castle in the clouds?" Melanie's tone was bitter. She would never be what some called a lipstick lesbian. She was far too scrappy, more of a street fighter. A bit like Brian if she'd ever let herself think about the man she'd deemed her mortal enemy with any semblance of rationality. They actually had a lot in common.

"Of course, I love him. I love him because he's my best friend. He's Gus's father."

"That's not what I meant," Melanie said, seething. "And you know it. Sometimes I think you've just been waiting for Brian like Sleeping Beauty waited on her prince in a glass fucking coffin."

"That's not fair," Lindsay said, eyes welling with fresh tears.

"Life's not fair, sweetheart. You know his comment about our sex life is accurate." Fucking asshole.

Angry now herself, Lindsay hissed, "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You want the truth? Cause I'm not sure you can handle it."

A hesitant nod. Melanie proceeded, voice vicious, "You have a longer and better orgasm when you are fucked with a dildo than with a vibrator. You have to have the penetration or you don't come. It's not enough for me to go down on you. I'm not enough for you."

"Do you have to be graphic, Mel?"

"Honey, you don't know what graphic is. I'm just calling it as I see it." Melanie sighed, looking at her wife, thinking once again just how sheltered she'd been. "Lindsay, I've known I was a dyke since I was fourteen and realized the idea of dick repulsed me. I've been with two guys in my entire life and one raped me. The other was a drunken mistake at a frat party. I don't like dick. I never have. And yet your best friend, Brian, is a fag and he's fucked you more than once. I think he's right. How many times did he fuck you? I think on some level you question who you are."

"I don't know." She knew even as she said it that it was a lie. She could remember every single time she and Brian had sex.

"I had my first lesbian experience when I was sixteen, Lindz. Brian told you when you were twenty. Hell, it was with a friend of his that you had your first experience." And I went out looking for my own, she thought. And then I met Leda.

"I love you, Melanie."

"I know you do, honey. But I want my wife back."

"So do I," Lindsay said sadly.

They stared at each other, wondering exactly where to go from there. Lindsay studied her wife, saw the hurt and pain and fatigue in Melanie's eyes. Fear too. The kind of cold fear that ices your veins, slick and insidious.

She took a deep breath. "We need to talk to Brian."

"No."

The knot expanded so it felt like a fist in the ball of her stomach. "No?" she repeated.

Melanie's smile was sad. "You need to talk to him. Resolve your issues."

"I don't want Brian."

Yes, you do, Melanie thought. But the one good thing I can say about the asshole is he's never encouraged you. He's never cock-teased you like he did with Michael. Never gave you the idea that there was a chance of you two ending up with the dream of a white-picket fence and 2.5 kids. He's always been honest even when he posed as your husband when we were trying to get Gus into that school. What a French farce that turned out to be. "Talk to him. I'm going out for a while."

"Where?"

"Don't know. I just need some air. I won't be gone long."

As Melanie watched, she saw the shutters come down over Lindsay's eyes, blanking her expression. Lindsay sat in the easy chair for a long time, seconds passing into minutes without her noticing. The shrill sound of the phone ringing jolted her out of her near-trance.

"Hello," she said, weariness creeping into her voice like fog rolling in over the moors.

"Lindz, it's Brian."

Of course, she thought bitterly. Who else would it be? She deliberately smoothed her voice. "Bri." Voice cold as black ice and just as treacherous.

At the loft, Brian watched Justin playing with their son. He recognized the dispassionate tone Lindsay had adopted. He used a similar one.

"We need to talk."

It took all her considerable effort not to rip into him. To make him hurt as she was hurting. "Yeah, I know. How about we have lunch sometime this week?"

"Fine. Any day but Tuesday." 

"Okay," she said. "Has Gus been good?"

Looking at Gus, he smiled. "He's been fine. He met Justin's mom today."

"Really?"

"Yeah, he charmed her."

Lindsay could hear the pride in his voice, pride in his son. "Well, he is your son."

"Yes, he is. I was going to give him a bath later. Is the shower OK?"

Lindsay leaned back on the couch, feeling the pain shoot through the ball of her ankle. Damn stilettos, she thought. They are murder on a woman's feet. "As long as you're in there with him. He loves being naked and hates getting dressed." Like his dad, she realized, thinking of how many times she'd dropped by the loft to find Brian unabashedly naked.

"Did you pack his PJ's?"

"Yeah, they should be in the diaper bag. He can be slippery. I can't tell you how many times he's taken off and he's slippery as a seal."

"Yep, he's my son."

She couldn't help laughing. Even when she was pissed as hell at him, he could turn on the Kinney charm and charm her out of her mood. Damn him. "See you later tonight. Mel and I are going to dinner. Tell Gus I love him."

"Yeah."

Back at the loft, Justin looked at him. "Lindsay and I are going to have lunch one day this week. Talk about stuff."

"She still pissed at you?"

"Not as much as she was."

Glancing at the wall clock, Brian saw it was late afternoon, nearing six p.m.. "Do you want to go ahead and order dinner?"

Justin nodded just as Gus said, "Daddy, I hungry."

Justin smiled at the two-year-old. "Want pizza, Gus?"

"Yeah, Jus'n," Gus clapped excitedly.

Brian merely rolled his eyes. There went the idea of macaroni and cheese. He remembered how often Emmett did the same thing. Gus was two. What the hell was Emmett's excuse? Though he gave the nelly queen a hard time he actually respected Emmett for being so out and proud.

"And what does Daddy want?"

"Pizza's fine," he said, resigned to the thought of the time he'd have to spend on the treadmill burning off the carbs. You, he thought. He wondered briefly if there would ever be a time he didn't feel a sexual draw between him and Justin. Nah. Not gonna happen. 

"I think there's some leftover Thai in the fridge, if you'd rather have that," the blond informed him.

He nodded. "Pizza's fine, Justin." He handed him the phone, then said, "I need to check my e-mail. You mind keeping Gus occupied for a few minutes?"

Since it wasn't an order disguised as a request, Justin saw no harm in complying. "Sure. C'mon, Gus. I'm going to call the pizza place." He took the toddler by the hand and led him away from his Daddy.

Brian sat down at the computer desk, scrolling through e-mails, noting a few from the escort service he'd used. He wondered how Justin would feel knowing he'd pumped someone else while imaging Justin. He made a mental note to suspend services. Why pay for an imitation when the real thing is back in my life? He asked. Besides Justin was always better than any hustler, knew exactly what he liked and he didn't have to force himself to bring Justin off. That had been evidenced by their encounter in the shower. God that had been fucking hot, he remembered, seeing Justin looking up at him as he lapped the cum out of the palm of his hand. God knew, the only time Justin had been with a hustler it had been a disaster of epic proportions, leaving the door open for Ian, leaving Brian feeling as if he were drowning, gasping for air. And nursing wounds to heart and pride. He supposed one day he'd have to admit just what it had done to him. And he'd had to cope alone because everyone thought their break-up was his fault because Sunshine could do no wrong. Nice support system, he thought bitterly.

He heard Gus giggle at something Justin had said and saw the teen had removed ingredients for salad from the refrigerator. Good, he thought, Sonny Boy'll have some vegetables tonight. His lips curved into a slight smile. He saw an e-mail from Stockwell's campaign manager and scanned the contents. It bothered him that his so-called family thought he had so little integrity and so few stakes in the gay community. Just because he didn't go to every GLBT meeting didn't mean he didn't give a shit about gay rights. He hated Stockwell but it was just business. And, maybe, if he told himself that enough he might actually believe it. He was kind of surprised that Justin hadn't mentioned it. But since it wasn't one of the accounts Justin had been assigned to he might not know.

Brian was many things but he always, always stuck by his word. Except for things like say, Vermont. "Hey, Justin, what kind of salad are you making?"

"Garden. We have everything here. For once." 

Brian barely acknowledged the dig. "Why don't you go ahead and order the pizza?" He closed down his e-mail server after shooting off his response to Stockwell's campaign manager and went to join them in the kitchen. "Need any help?"

Um. Huh? It took effort for him not to do a double-take. But Justin said only, "You can slice the French bread for garlic toast."

"Okay," he said, standing behind Justin, arms looped casually around the teen's waist. Justin reached for the phone and dialed their favorite pizza delivery service. He ordered the pizzas they'd discussed earlier. "Bri, cash or card?"

"Card," he said.

He felt Justin lean slightly back against him and smiled. Justin turned in his arms to study him, the salad forgotten for the moment. "What?" he asked gently.

"Nothing. Just you," he said, wonder made his voice soft and gentle, sliding over Brian like silk. Watching Brian it occurred to Justin that he seemed happy, genuinely happy. It was a rare sight and a dead certainty that no casual trick had ever seen Brian like this. In daddy mode. Planning dinner with his boyfriend and son.

Justin broke the connection, and leaned back against Brian, feeling the man's arms tighten almost imperceptibly around him. Felt the man inhale and realized that Brian was sniffing him. Some things never changed. And yet something has changed, Justin realized. But he wasn't sad. He was happy. Happy that he'd gotten this second chance. Happy that he hadn't lost the most important thing in his life to him. Yet there was a foreboding sense, he realized. A sense that something would happen to challenge him and Brian. Maybe forever alter their relationship. Try as he might, he couldn't shake the feeling. And wondered if Brian felt it too.

Brian smelled Justin, smelled the clean scent of soap and shampoo and boy. Realized that it wasn't overlaid with the musk of another. For some reason, his happiness was tempered by the thought that challenges lay ahead. Rain's coming, he thought, even as his arms tightened around Justin, holding him closer. Never wanna let you go, he thought.


	11. Finding a Way Back

Later that evening, the buzzer sounded. He unwound his arms from around Justin as they lay on the sofa. Gus was snuggled up against his father. Justin anticipated Gus's reaction to his father's sudden absence and folded the boy into his own arms. Soon the smell of pizza filled the loft and all three dug in, taking a break from the Powerpuff Girls cartoon that Justin had talked Brian into watching.

Sitting on the floor so as to not get pizza sauce on the pristine white sofa, Justin said, "So Mr. Kinney, other than Eye-Conic Optics, what other major accounts do you have?"

Brian smiled, remembering how nervous Justin had been. Nervous enough that the storyboards had fallen down. Christ, I was pissed, he thought. Pissed that the client actually liked Justin's inadvertent suggestion more than my own. He raised a brow. Justin had never really taken an interest in his work before. Now maybe it was because they were working together. This was nice, he admitted. A hallmark of a real relationship but Brian didn't think that. It would simply have never occurred to him that it was a step forward. 

"Well, Taylor," he began, smirking as he saw Justin's reaction. For some reason that was alien to them both it turned them on to call each other by their last name. 

Maybe, Justin thought, we should do more of the role playing games. There was no harm in indulging every once in a while, he rationalized. Besides, it might be fun. And spice wasn't necessarily bad. 

Justin suddenly realized Brian's face was quite animated. He guessed that Brian had been talking to him. Then Brian said a name which had Justin's blood running cold. "And Stockwell."

Justin could barely breathe. How the hell can he represent that homophobic prick? "You're in charge of Police Chief Stockwell's campaign?" he asked, incredulously. "That homophobic ass---jerk. Does he know that the senior ad exec on his team is gay? That you love sucking cock and having yours sucked and fucking men up the ass?" He could barely breathe he was so pissed.

Brian's back stiffened. On one hand, he understood completely Justin's reaction. He was representing a man who purported to hate the entire gay community which pissed some people off including the young man looking at him with blood in his eye. But it was just business. His ticket out of Pittsburgh and to the life in New York City that he'd always wanted.

"It's just business," he said. "He doesn't need to know that I prefer cock to pussy, Sunshine. It doesn't affect how I do my job." It had mattered though, he thought, remembering Kip Thomas and Marvin Telson. Despite his personal philosophy, sometimes it did matter where he put his dick. Sometimes despite his best intentions the one Brian ended up fucking was himself and without lube.

Not wishing to have an argument about business with Brian because he remembered the last time they'd discussed business, Justin simply picked up another slice of pizza. It bothered him though. His art was always tied to emotion somehow and he found it interesting that Brian was seemingly able to separate the two with such ease.

Brian set his teeth. Did no one understand how he couldn't let his representation of Stockwell become personal? How every time the man launched into yet another criticism of Liberty Avenue as a den of iniquity and immoral behavior, Brian had to fight back the urge to say something? How when the man criticized the backroom of the clubs and the baths it hit him just where everyone thought his focus was? His dick. Yet he had to fight the urge to rip the man a new one. Teach him just how fucking with the fags was a bad idea. How he wondered if Vance secretly hoped he'd give up or slip up? If that was the case, then Gardner Vance was a fool and did not know Brian Aidan Kinney at all. In the end, it was all about the client no matter how loathsome.

"I didn't say I liked the man or agreed with his politics. But he's a consummate politician and he's paying a fortune in retaining my services." Show me the motherfucking money.

Justin stayed silent. "Sunshine," Brian said. It mattered to him that this so bothered Justin.

"The man would be happy if we all disappeared into a cesspool, Brian. You're hiding who you are. Something you always told me not to do. You're subjugating that part of you that lives for fucking a nice ass and burying your cock deep inside. It's like you've lost your balls."

Ouch, Brian thought, rather resenting the comment. "Oh, I've still got balls. And a dick that makes you weep," he reminded the teen.

Justin didn't meet his eyes. For once, he wasn't proud of Brian. He hated the fact that Brian didn't see that what he was doing was a betrayal of everything they stood for. Hell, everything Justin had nearly died for. "I didn't say that you weren't a masterful lover. That you didn't have the most talented tongue that I've ever experienced. And the finest cock in Pittsburgh. I just find it hard to believe that you would take on his account."

No sense telling Justin that he'd all but courted it. Remembered cornering Stockwell in the men's bathroom and telling the man his current advertising campaign was for shit. "What about the Pool Boy account?" Brian reminded him.

"That was different."

"How was that different?" Brian pressed him. "They're both homophobic assholes."

"But you took that account and made it a point to remind Pool just how much disposable income the homosexual community has. That we make a significant impact on the marketplace. And you marketed that in such a way that you appealed to sexually repressed women and gays. Representing Stockwell is different."

"How?"

"Because. Fuck, Brian, I don't know. It just is."

"How erudite of you."

"Fuck you, Brian."

"Justin, I don't always like the clients I represent. I have done things to get accounts that I'm not proud of. I've used my body and my dick to seduce clients into doing things they wouldn't ordinarily do. I sell sex appeal and the promise of sex. This isn't any different. And I can't bring my personal feelings into it. Can you understand that?"

Justin sighed. He didn't wish to argue with Brian about this. It was an argument he wasn't going to win. But damned if he was going to stand by and do nothing while their world was torn asunder by some malevolent homophobic prick. He happened to love cock and he would never be ashamed of the fact that he loved Brian. But knowing that Brian often did things for business that he wasn't proud of didn't make him feel any better. "Yeah," Justin said.

Shit, Brian thought. I really fucked this up. And I wonder what he'll say if he knows that I still think about going to New York and the fact that Stockwell has all but promised to deliver his backers to me. Now's not the time to tell him, Brian rationalized.

He looked at his young partner and suppressed a sigh. Never thought this was gonna be easy. But damn if I didn't think that we wouldn't have this kind of ideological fight for a while. Justin wouldn't meet his eyes and Brian thought regretfully of the fact that he knew he'd disappointed the teen on a deep level. Well, fuck me, he thought. When did his opinion begin to matter to me so much? And why do I feel like I've let him down? 

Never easy. Never a fucking magic carpet ride, he thought.


	12. Finding a Way Back

It was a little after ten-thirty when Lindsay and Gus finally left the loft. Brian slid the loft door closed after walking them down to the car. He turned to look at a drowsy Justin sprawled on the sofa. It was such a familiar pose that Brian felt need hit him. It had been a long day, he thought, remembering the visits from both Debbie and Jennifer Taylor. Welcome to our life, he thought. He took a deep breath as he walked towards the sofa, wondering if the disagreement from earlier that day would prevent them from enjoying their night alone.

Earlier that day…

Debbie left the loft, her heart singing as she thought about the scene she’d stumbled onto in Brian’s loft. She’d never been so relieved in her life to see Brian with Justin. She’d felt on some level it was inevitable that they’d find their way back to each other. Because Brian needs Sunshine, she thought.

As she reached Liberty Avenue, she decided to stop in at the comic book store and pay her son a visit. Talk to him before he steps in it, she thought. For the first time, she wondered what exactly her son had said at the girls’ anniversary party to make Brian hit him. She knew it couldn’t have been good or Brian wouldn’t have punched him like he had, even though at the time she’d thought him an animal. It took a lot for Brian to lose the famous control he worked so hard for; the control that separated him from the side of him that could be more like Jack than he wanted to be. Not for the first time, Debbie wondered if anyone knew just what demons Brian fought to keep his rage under wraps.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door. She hadn’t come equipped with turkey meatloaf or lemon bars but with the advice of a mother who was weary of reminding her son that he would never get what he so desperately wanted. Namely Brian Aidan Kinney. “Ma,” Michael said, happy to see her for once.

“Michael.” She saw the wariness slide into Michael’s brown eyes and wondered at it. 

“What’s up?”

Deciding to forgo bullshit in favor of unvarnished truth, she said, “I just saw Brian.”

“Oh,” Michael said, voice not betraying anything.

Wow, she thought, he’s doing a good job of not saying anything. I wonder who taught him that because it sure as fuck wasn’t me. “And Sunshine.”

“Oh,” Michael said, an edge creeping into his voice.

“They’re back together.”

“I know.”

Studying her son, Debbie wished for the millionth time that he’d get over this crush on Brian. Realize that it was never going to happen. “Honey, he’s happy. I think he truly loves this kid.”

“You’ve said that before,” Michael snapped at her. “And that kid that everyone adores walked out on him in front of more than three hundred people. Didn’t even have the decency to talk to Brian alone. Basically cut his balls off in front of everyone.” It hurt him when he remembered just how hurt Brian had been, how he’d pulled the mask off to reveal the hurt in his eyes, only to have Justin walk away with that fiddler.

“We don’t know everything about their relationship, honey. And Brian’s entitled to happiness. And it’s not like everyone hasn’t seen Brian’s balls before.”

“I know that,” he said, irritated. “That’s not the point, Ma.”

“I know that too, Michael. Do you? Because I think that as long as Brian is unhappy he needs you. And you’d rather him be miserable and needing you than happy and needing Sunshine.” It was a remarkably astute observation.

“That’s not true. I want Brian to be happy. He’s my best friend and I love him.”

“I know you do, honey. But he’s got Justin in his life now and from where I sit, he’s not going anywhere.”

“Until someone younger and hotter walks into his life and tells him the things Brian won’t ever tell him.”

Debbie stared at her son. “You’ve got Ben, Michael. Why the fuck can’t you let Brian go? Why can’t you let him be happy? Doesn’t he deserve that? After the shit he grew up with it’s a wonder Brian’s not more fucked up. That he’s as stable as he is.”

“Have you forgotten the nights you tended his bruised and battered face? How he refused to let you take him to the hospital when his ribs were nearly broken by that sick fuck he called his father? The nights when he crawled into my bed and cried himself to sleep, wondering why his family didn’t love him.” The night more recently when he’d poured a drunk Brian into a cab so he didn’t crash the newly acquired ‘Vette. That night the drunk had been because of Justin, Michael remembered.

“No, honey, I haven’t. But I also saw how Brian fucked everything that moved in a vain attempt to find the one thing that was missing in his life. How he was on a search to find something that he believed didn’t exist. The ability to love and be loved in return. He only found that when Sunshine walked into his life. When he saw Sunshine under that light, something changed for Brian.”

“You’ve been watching Moulin Rouge again,” Michael said. “And this isn’t a Hollywood love story, Ma.”

Debbie sighed and took a deep breath. She remembered the tragic end of the movie too. Not matter how many times she saw it, the ending still brought her to tears. “Michael, honey, I know you love Brian. But he won’t ever give you what you want.”

“He offered once,” Michael admitted.

That surprised Debbie. She wouldn’t have thought that of Brian. “And you turned him down, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Michael looked at her. “Because I didn’t want him that way. The same way I didn’t want him to fuck me when he was depressed as shit over losing his dad.”

“Isn’t it because you know that it would wreck your friendship with Brian if you two ever did end up in bed?”

“No,” he said, refusing to acknowledge that was the reason that lay behind his decision. That not having Brian as a friend had caused him to refuse the offer. And it wasn’t Ben but Brian who had proved the incentive for turning Brian down.

“Michael,” Debbie pressed.

He closed his eyes and his answer took a long time coming. “Yes, I know it would wreck our friendship. But that doesn’t mean that I think Justin is the best thing for him because I don’t.”

“Justin loves him,” Debbie pointed out. “Foibles and faults. Warts and all.”

“Brian doesn’t have warts,” Michael said, picking up on the least important part of the statement as usual. “And Justin left him.”

“Because Brian wouldn’t tell him he mattered,” Debbie said. “He wouldn’t tell him that he wasn’t just as a fuck buddy, that he actually wanted him there.”

“Everything Brian did for that kid should have told Justin he mattered. Anyone could see that.” Even me, Michael admitted.

“I could see that. I think we forget that the Justin we knew before he got hurt is gone. He didn’t come back the same, honey. The Justin that Brian fell for was nearly killed by that fucker with the bat. And the person who came back had different needs and attitudes than the one who went after Brian with such disregard for anyone’s opinion.”

“So you’re saying that he was right? That he was right to leave Brian? To shatter Brian’s heart?”

“No, I’m not saying that. But I’m saying that maybe we should cut them both some slack. That the fact that Brian’s giving him a second chance means something. Brian doesn’t do that for just anyone. Look at how he gave you a second chance. He gave you a chance for a life with David, Michael. He’s not always the asshole that we all think. He’s sometimes surprisingly selfless.” Even if we don’t always see it at the point of impact, she thought.

“Ma, I get your point. I’ll try to stay out of it. But I don’t like Justin.”

You’re jealous of him, she thought. Jealous because he has a part of Brian that you won’t ever have. But she stayed silent. She walked towards him, cupping his chin in her palm, and lifted his chin up so that their eyes could meet. “You have a lot of the Italian in you, Michael Novotny. But you also have some drag-queen. Remember that your heart is as big as the ocean. Isn’t it big enough to include Sunshine?” She kissed his cheek, rubbing when she saw she’d left lipstick. “Come by the diner later and I’ll fix you some dinner to take home for you and Ben.”

Michael stood at the counter for a few minutes after his mom disappeared, thinking about what she’d said. It had some truth to it, he admitted. Maybe I was too quick to judge Justin, he thought. God knew that Brian did love the kid on some level that he couldn’t understand. And, he supposed, it was true that I do get jealous. Jealous when I know that Brian’s fucking him in the backroom and knowing that it’s not the same as it is when he’s with an anonymous trick.

Back to the loft (night)…

Brian sat down on the sofa, Justin curled up in one end. He’d flipped off the TV and put the living room back to rights, Brian noticed. He rolled his neck realizing that it was stiff. Justin looked at him and Brian smiled tentatively. 

“You still pissed at me?” he asked.

Justin shook his head. “Not pissed,” he said, “just disappointed. I hate Stockwell but I understand your position.” 

“Come here,” Brian said. His back was tight, he knew. It was a sure sign of unrelieved stress. Seemed Justin recognized it too.

Sliding towards him on the couch, Justin ran his hands up Brian’s back and settled on his shoulders. “You’re tight,” he commented.

“Thought you liked that about me.”

“I’m talking about your back, smart ass.”

“I know,” Brian said, thinking of the last time he’d gotten a massage. It had been a while, he acknowledged, and it hadn’t been someone who cared about him as much as Justin did.

Justin kissed his shoulder and Brian cocked his head. “Do you have any of that vanilla and orange neroli massage oil?”

“Yeah,” Brian responded, “it’s in the bathroom.”

Justin got up and returned a few minutes later with a towel and the massage oil. He kissed Brian, unsurprised when the kiss quickly turned passionate. They’d needed this all day, he thought. Needed to be together as much as anything else. He traced the outline of Brian’s mouth with his tongue, waiting as Brian sucked his tongue harder. Breaking the kiss, he was breathless, skin flushed. Brian smiled knowingly. He always could affect the blond, he thought cockily. But the blond affects me too. 

Brian raised his arms and Justin pulled the shirt over his head. The man’s nipples puckered slightly in the cool air of the loft and Justin smiled. Tossing the shirt away, Justin ran his hands down Brian’s chest until they met the denim of his jeans. “Sonny boy, you want to play?” Brian all but purred.

Justin nodded, eagerness warring with desire. He unsnapped the first button, then the next, shuddering as his finger brushed against quickening flesh. Then the next until Brian’s awakening cock sprang free. He met Brian’s eyes, darkening with desire. It was always like this with them, he reflected. Quickfire lust. Brian stood and quickly dropped the pants where he stood, stepping out of them.

“You’re overdressed,” he commented, hooking his fingers in the band of Justin’s cargo pants and pulling him towards him. The palm of his hand cupped Justin’s balls and the teen shuddered, reminding Brian of the first time they’d done this. Brian kissed him, tongue mapping the interior regions of Justin’s mouth as he pulled the pants down until he felt Justin’s cock brush against his thigh. Pulling away, he said, “Bed.”

“Uh huh.”

Brian smiled at him. “I think I’ve got a drop cloth somewhere. This is bound to get messy,” he said.

Since Justin agreed and found himself rendered speechless for the moment, he simply nodded. He followed Brian into the bedroom where he tossed the duvet aside and pulled the top sheet off. “There’s a drop cloth in the storage closet,” he said. “Why don’t you get it?”

When Justin returned he found Brian idly stroking his cock. “You starting before me?” he gently accused.

“Just playing with myself,” Brian said. “I thought you liked watching me jack off.”

“I do,” Justin admitted. “It always turned me on when you touched yourself. Watching you shoot. It’s one of the few times you lose control.”

“I know,” Brian said, his tone smug. Gesturing to the drop cloth, he said, “Why don’t you put it on the bed, Sunshine?”

Doing so, Justin met Brian’s eyes. Through silent agreement, it was Brian who lay down on the bed, on his stomach, legs spread wide apart. It was one of the positions Brian adopted when he wanted to get rimmed. Though his mouth fairly watered at the thought of Brian’s ass, Justin reminded himself that he was giving Brian a massage, and not about to eat his ass. He knelt with his knees, on either side of Brian’s back, and poured a little of the massage oil into the palm of his hand. Rubbing them together to heat up the oil, he started on Brian’s shoulders. Brian’s head was turned so that he could just barely see Justin. He rubbed the flesh and heard Brian’s stifled whimper. “You’re tense,” he said. “Relax.”

“Just been a long time.”

Justin studied him. “You haven’t been getting a regular massage?” he asked.

“No,” Brian said. Not for anything would he admit that he preferred Justin’s method of massage therapy to that of some impersonal masseur who often worked him too hard. And probably went into a bathroom stall to jerk off the minute he was off the table.

“Well, then,” Justin said. He gently kneaded the muscles in Brian’s back until he felt the tension knot begin to release before starting to work his way down. Felt Brian shift and knew that he was growing harder. 

“Is this okay,” he said, gently pressing his thumb into the hollow where back met cheeks. 

“You know it is,” Brian grumbled. “Lower,” he said, all but growling.

Justin smiled. Pouring a little more of the massage oil into his hand he rubbed Brian’s cheeks, watching as Brian squirmed underneath his ministrations. “Okay?”

“Uh huh,” he grunted. This is driving me crazy, he thought, dick pressing against the mattress, through the drop cloth. He slid a hand down and began working his dick as Justin massaged his ass, finger touching the sensitive area between balls and asshole. “Justin,” he said, striving to even his voice out.

“Yes, Brian.”

Brian figured he was smirking at him. This is just how you wanted me, he thought. Wanted me to all but beg you, he thought. And begging was something he only did when they were alone. “Slide a finger inside me,” he ordered.

“I thought this was a massage, sir. I’m not a geisha,” Justin said, primly.

So we’re playing, he thought. “I’m not paying you not to fuck me,” Brian pointed out. “I’m paying you to do whatever the fuck I want you to do.” His voice rising as his need increased, “Now I want you to finger fuck me.”

Understanding the rules of the game had shifted, Justin eagerly complied. “Are you clean?” he asked.

Brian stifled a groan. “The water this morning did that,” he reminded Justin. “Now put your finger inside me.”

He gasped as he felt Justin’s finger slowly press into his rosy pucker as it clenched around the sudden intruder. Felt Justin begin to slowly move it in and out to the tip, then curl it upwards towards the top of his ass. “That’s it,” he moaned. “Fuck my ass with your finger. That’s a good dirty boy.”

Justin smiled. He liked this game. Liked hearing Brian all but beg for it. Though he wasn’t ready to fuck the older man. Not yet, he admitted. He eased his finger out and asked, “What do you want your dirty boy to do now?”

Brian smiled. Ah, he’s getting into the game. “Lick my ass, dirty boy. Put your tongue all over my asshole. Put your tongue into me and eat me.”

Justin bent down and began to slowly but surely lick Brian’s glistening cheeks. Soon they glistened from oil and from his own saliva. Felt Brian begin to writhe and slowly licked the strip of skin between ass and balls, deliberately avoiding the hole. He worked his tongue in circles until he brushed his tongue over the epicenter of the hole, washing it with his tongue. “Put your tongue in me, dirty boy,” Brian ordered, shaft sliding through his hand quicker as his dick began to weep more copiously. “Tongue fuck my hot ass.”

Justin made a point of his tongue, sticking it inside, past the first ring of muscle. Then he began to lick, slowly at first and then with more enthusiasm. Soon Brian was bucking his ass back against his face, trying to draw his tongue deeper inside the warmth of his hole. “That’s good,” he moaned, feeling Justin’s tongue lick inside him. “Oh, God,” he said, as he began to stroke harder, knowing that he was near orgasm. “I’m going to come,” he said. 

Justin eased his tongue out of Brian’s asshole as Brian shot, cum splattering his belly. Brian rolled clear of the place where he’d shot on the drop cloth and glanced up at him. “Have I mentioned that you play that role quite well?”

“Uh uh,” Justin said, eyes flickering. There were traces of semen on Brian’s chest and Brian noticed where his eyes had landed. Smiling knowingly, Brian scooped up some and held it out to Justin. 

“You like to taste me, don’t you, dirty boy?”

Justin leaned over and took Brian’s finger into his mouth, leisurely licking his finger clean, tongue working the finger as if it were a miniature cock. Then he licked his lips. “Uh huh.”

“Why don’t you lick me clean, then?” he asked, lying back on the pillows, content for the moment to let Justin take over.

Justin crawled up Brian’s body till his lips met Brian’s throat, starting to lick there with slow, sure strokes. He then moved down Brian’s chest until he lapped up the still glistening semen. Felt Brian’s fingers burrow into his hair, as he fought not to arch up into him. He continued to lap at Brian’s still sweaty skin, being careful to get every last drop of come. He moved down until he licked Brian’s still dripping cock clean and then slowly began to lave his balls. Brian stifled a whimper. “Game over,” he grunted. “Lick me clean, Justin.” Justin finished and looked up at Brian from his position between his legs. Brian smirked. “That was hot,” he said.

Justin nodded. “Anything else you want your dirty boy to do?” he asked.

Brian’s eyes glinted. It was never a good idea to provoke him. But Justin knew that and was up for almost anything, he thought. Still he felt it was too soon for too much. The floor show was going to be interesting enough, he reflected. Asking a lot of him. “Lie down next to me,” he said.

Understanding for the moment that he’d done all that was required of him, Justin complied. “You sure you want to do this floor show?” Brian asked.

Turning onto his side, Justin looked at his lover, reflecting on how Brian resembled nothing so much as a large cat. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“You think Daphne’ll be up for it?”

Thinking of his best friend, Justin nodded. “You know that she’s often wondered about us, Brian. And I think she’s wondered how it’d be to have a lesbian encounter.”

Brian closed his eyes; his eyes were always photosensitive after an orgasm. “I think Cynthia’s pretty straight-laced. I think she prefers dick to pussy.”

Justin had spent some time with Cynthia and had his own thoughts about that; thoughts he wasn’t willing to share with Brian for the moment. So he only said, “We might be surprised.”

Brian turned onto his side, facing Justin. “You think Cynthia’s a carpet muncher?”

“You know for someone so eloquent, you have this knack for boiling everything down into something crude,” he admonished.

“Well, if the fuck-me pump fits,” he pointed out. “Seriously, do you think Cynthia likes pussy and cock?”

“I don’t know, Brian,” he said, exasperated. “I just think that you don’t know your assistant as well as you might think.”

“Hmph,” the older man said. It was true that he hadn’t made much of an effort to get to know things about Cynthia. But he knew when her birthday was and made a point to reward her when she did things right or beyond the call of duty.

“Brian, what exactly did you mean when you said no holds barred?”

“Exactly that. No holes barred.”

Justin stared at him. The slight word correction wasn’t lost on him. He’d noticed it both times Brian had clarified it. “Okay, I know you don’t like pussy, so why would you even entertain the thought of doing something like that?”

Brian’s eyes slowly slid open, focusing on Justin’s face. “Because the girls have fantasized about me fucking them. And I’m not one to step on anyone’s fantasy, Sunshine. Besides, a hole is a hole.”

Justin scrunched up his face and Brian laughed. “You know, you look like a Cabbage Patch doll.”

“Fuck you, Brian,” Justin said, but the words carried no heat.

Turning more serious, he said, “It’s not a big deal to make someone’s fantasy come true. Besides, there are few things I haven’t or will not do.”

“Except water sports.”

This time it was Brian who grimaced. “Well, neither one of us wants to do that,” he reminded his young partner. “Are you telling me you’ve never thought about it?”

“I fucked Daphne once,” Justin reminded him. “And she left her bra on and the lights on.”

Brian stifled a laugh. “Did you want to fuck her ass?”

“Brian!”

“Well?”

“The thought occurred to me but she was terrified as it was and I wasn’t about to suggest something that wasn’t vanilla to her. Besides, I didn’t really like the fact that I was doing it to begin with.”

“How did it feel?”

He looked at Brian and realized the man was serious. “Like I was fucking a bath sponge. All wet and squishy.”

This time Brian couldn’t help laughing at Justin’s description. Justin glared at him. “So how did it feel when you were fucking Lindsay?”

“Tight and warm,” he admitted. He didn’t exactly like discussing his prior sexual relationship with Lindsay but he’d opened the door. 

Studying Brian, Justin said, “Go on.”

“I can’t believe we’re talking about my fucking Lindsay,” he said, moving into a sitting position. He sighed. “Squishy is a pretty apt description. Needless to say I wasn’t prepared to have her gush on me as she came.”

“Did you fuck her ass?”

Brian’s eyes narrowed. “You know she’d be really pissed if she knew I was telling you this. It’s not exactly something she’s proud of.”

I guess not, Justin thought. I mean, you all but turned her into a muff diver. He knew enough not to throw that last thought back at Brian. “Well?”

“Yes,” he ground out, face flushed. “I fucked Lindsay’s ass. Once. She told me never again.”

They looked at each other. “So what do you think will happen when the girls see us fucking each other?”

Brian stared at him. “I guess I didn’t think this whole thing through.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” Justin had. He’d had time to think about it. “You know, if the girls have any fantasies whatsoever about being a lesbian they’re going to end up experimenting with each other.”

“Well, I guess we’ll just have to make two tapes and edit out the lesbian stuff for our copy.”

“You’re kind of getting into this, aren’t you?”

Brian nodded. “Come on, Sunshine. Doesn’t it make you just a little bit hot thinking about performing for two such lovely ladies, knowing that you’re providing a visual image for their most private fantasy?”

“In a way,” he grudgingly admitted. “I admit I thought about it.”

“So this isn’t something you and the fiddler did?”

Justin glared at him. “No, we did not.”

“So you said Daph and her new boyfriend were getting ready to fuck on your couch?”

Justin nodded, wondering what Brian’s sudden interest was. Then Brian said, “So was he hung?”

“I didn’t really notice, Brian.”

Brian noticed the cold quality to Justin’s voice and knew immediately the teen was lying. “Bullshit. So was he hung?”

“Yes,” he admitted, feeling a bit guilty.

“It’s not a crime that you noticed, Sunshine. So how do you think he’ll feel about Daphne’s little venture into the world of homosexual sex?”

“I don’t know.” But he had wondered just how Curtis would respond.

“I guess you should talk to him and feel him out,” Brian suggested.

“Are you suggesting that I proposition him myself, Brian? Daphne’d kill me and besides she’s already had two boyfriends who ended up preferring cock. I don’t want to be responsible for turning a third.”

Brian grinned. “And how many supposedly straight men have I fucked?”

“I don’t know. Do you?” he asked, thinking of that first year when Brian had fucked the guy after the pitch. 

Point taken, Brian thought. He shook his head. “You know I think we’ve talked enough for the time being. My poor little cock is ready for some more attention.”

“Your cock is not poor, and it is certainly not little,” Justin said, primly.

“I know that,” he said smugly. “And you like that about me.”

He nodded. “You up for round two?”

“Baby, I’m always up for round two. And three. And four,” he said, leering at Justin.

“You’re insatiable, Brian.”

“So are you, Sunshine. So are you.”

The boys looked at each other, matching grins on their faces. Both looking like cats about to devour fresh cream. Since Brian was always up for it, Justin smiled, moving closer to him. “We need to rest for a little while,” he pointed out. 

“Okay,” Justin agreed, his head resting on Brian’s shoulder. 

As he slid into sleep, he couldn’t help imagining the sweet torment he was sure his lover would devise for him. Ah how sweet it is, he thought. It was tantalizing to think of Brian at his mercy, under his control. As for Brian, Brian was thinking about just how hot his blond could make things. So he followed Justin into sleep.


	13. Finding a Way Back

Author's Note: Okay, so this one has a lot of sex. But it does have some substance so just wade through it. I think you'll be happy with the outcome. Also, the Heathcliff and Catherine I refer to are from Emily Bronte's book Wuthering Heights. Hubbell is Robert Redford's character in The Way We Were. Oh, I know Justin's nipple isn' t re-pierced on the show but like Hemingway once said, isn't it pretty to think so?

* * *

It was Justin who awakened first, stretching like a cat. He moved to straddle Brian, licking the man’s lips until the man’s eyes slowly slid open. “Horny again?” he asked, amused.

Justin nodded. “Uh huh,” he said, having enjoyed a very erotic dream about Brian during his brief nap. He smiled at Brian.

“You look like the cat who ate the canary,” Brian pointed out.

“I prefer thinking of it as the cat who lapped the milk out of the saucer until nothing remained,” he said, voice all but a purr.

Brian’s eyes narrowed even as they darkened. “You know you’re beautiful when you’re horny.”

Since the words were so unlike Brian, Justin stayed silent. Brian leaned up to find Justin’s mouth with his own, sucking his tongue as they kissed. Still it was Justin who mapped the interior regions of Brian’s mouth, the older man compliant for once to let Justin navigate. He nipped Brian’s bottom lip gently and was pleased to see his eyes darken with lust. He licked Brian’s jawline and heard the slight hiss as Brian inhaled.

Without warning, Brian flipped them so he loomed above Justin. Pinning his hands above his head (in a move that reminded them both of a day so long ago in a hotel room), Brian attacked his lips, leaving them bruised and tender. Justin arched under the sudden onslaught. “My rules,” Brian said, as he licked the slender column of Justin’s throat. “My game.”

Justin waited as Brian’s tongue mapped a path down the center of his chest to the top of his treasure line, carefully avoiding his nipples. He felt Brian’s nose nuzzle into the thatch of his pubic hair before kissing his dick and knew he was in for a long, slow ride, completely under Brian’s control.

From his position, Brian looked down at him. He slid up to find Justin’s mouth with his own and said, in a voice not entirely his own, “I want you.” This time the kiss was soft. Breaking it, Brian said, “Stay still. Still until I tell you that I want you to move.”

Understanding the order and knowing that no audible response was required, he nodded. This time Brian licked in concentric circles around his nipples, carefully avoiding direct contact. Justin’s hands gripped the sheets as his toes curled. Finally, Brian’s mouth drew one into the hot warmth of his mouth, sucking on the nub until it was hard almost to the point of pain. Then he did the same to the other one, leaving them both glistening with saliva as he moved down Justin’s body with deliberation. “Brian,” he breathed.

Pausing in his ministrations, he noticed Justin’s eyes were closed. “Look at me,” he ordered quietly. “I want you to see me.”

The blue eyes slowly opened. “You’re driving me mad. I want you to fuck me, Brian.”

“All in good time.” His tone conveyed the promise of more delicious torment to come. “What do you want me to do?”

“Suck me,” he said, voice high and breathless with need. “I want you to suck me, Brian.” He knew that he was in for a long night. He looked at Brian and saw the older man smirk. Am I that predictable? Then he didn’t think anymore as he felt Brian’s tongue wash over his navel, tongue dipping inside, saliva dripping from his tongue to Justin's belly as he lifted his head. 

“Brian,” he moaned. But Brian’s head bent back to his task, tongue fucking his belly button with slow, deliberate motions, until he couldn’t help arching his back towards Brian..

Then Brian’s tongue abruptly left his belly button and moved to his hard and weeping dick. He licked the tip, rewarded with a drop of pre-come. “My god.” Brian licked with slow, deliberate strokes of the shaft before taking the cock into his mouth. Moving up and down on it, he concentrated on the ridges and veins, then the bump beneath the head. He felt Justin begin to writhe above him. Letting Justin slip free for a moment, he said, “Still, remember. Stay still.” And then, “You want to fuck my face, don’t you? You want to shoot down my throat, don't you?”

Justin could only nod as he felt Brian turn his attention from his now-neglected cock to his balls. Lapping at the sac, Brian slowly drew one ball inside the warmth of his mouth, and then did the same to the other. He rolled both gently. Then Brian’s mouth closed once more over his dick, tongue swirling around the head, then Brian’s tongue mercilessly attacked the slit, hole opening as Justin moaned out a warning, “I’m going to shoot.” 

Brian hard-sucked him as Justin began to shoot, hot spunk bathing his throat, muscles contracting as he swallowed. Letting a little bit of Justin’s seed remain in his mouth, he raised his head, sliding up his body until Justin’s mouth met his in a fiercely passionate kiss. As they kissed, they shared the come. Breaking the kiss, Justin licked his lips for any lingering traces as Brian did the same to his own.

“You like tasting your own spunk, don’t you? You’re such a dirty boy,” Brian said, remembering their watery encounter that morning and the events of earlier that evening. My, if our mothers could see us now, he thought, irreverently.

“Yes,” Justin’s voice was breathy.

“How many times did you jack off at Daphne’s, catching your jizz in your hand? Lapping it up like milk?”

“A lot,” he answered, having lost count.

“Did you play with toys?”

“Yeah,” he said, voice even more breathless than before. He thought of riding the dildo as he jacked off, taking more and more of it into his ass, as he moved up and down on it.

“Did you wish it was me as you fucked yourself on that hard cock? Stroking yourself until you shot?” The choice of words was deliberate.

“Yes, Brian. Oh, yes.”

Brian’s eyes darkened. His own cock was hard again and he felt a strong need to fuck Justin. The need to reassert ownership came from a place deep inside him. “Did you fuck yourself on your fingers, dirty boy?”

“Uh huh,” Justin said, his own dick hard. He couldn't help but remember the nights he'd spent fucking his hole with his fingers.

“Such a dirty boy,” he taunted, a new idea for the floor show occurring to him.

He knew Justin’s dick was hard again. Ah, the benefit of youth, he thought. How sweet it is.

“Turn over,” he said, waiting as Justin eagerly complied, presenting his delectable ass to Brian. It was a secret pleasure of Brian’s that he enjoyed eating Justin’s ass. He saw the teen squirm and spread his legs farther apart in anticipation of what was to come (no pun intended).

“Brian.”

“No talking,” he said, as he positioned himself for better access. “You clean?”

“Yes,” Justin said. That had been done that morning under Brian’s expert eye. He smiled remembering the warm water going up his hole, cleansing out his lower colon.

He felt Brian raise himself up so that his bare cock rested in the indentation of his ass. Then he felt Brian move again and realized, as he felt the wetness, that Brian’s tongue was starting its slow progression down his spine. It had been a long time since anyone had eaten his ass. Yet another thing Ethan wouldn’t do, claiming he didn’t like the taste. He felt Brian’s tongue lick his cheeks with slow deliberation. Then he felt Brian’s hands part his cheeks, tongue finding the strip of skin between his asshole and balls, slowly licking it until Justin wanted to scream. He couldn’t help but moan, his cock digging into the mattress through the drop cloth, futilely trying to fuck the mattress, achieve some sort of release.

Brian’s tongue made a pass near his asshole, breath hot against his hole. “Please,” he pleaded, no longer caring about the earlier instructions.

“What little boy?”

Justin raised his ass as Brian’s tongue made dead on contact, licking the hole until it glistened with saliva. 

“Please eat me,” he whispered. “Eat my ass. Fuck me with your tongue.”

He couldn’t see Brian’s smirk, before he began to lick with renewed intensity, giving the hole a thorough tongue bathing. Then he felt the tip of Brian’s tongue begin to enter, pushing pass the first ring of muscles, tongue driving deeper and deeper. Justin’s hand slipped down to his own cock, now freely weeping pre-come. Using the pre-come as an ersatz lubricant, he began stroking his shaft as Brian’s tongue continued its exquisite torment and exploration of his asshole.

Brian redoubled his efforts, not unaware of the fact that Justin was jerking himself off. His tongue slipped out of Justin’s ass and again licked the sensitive strip of skin, tongue making contact with his balls, and then the sensitive underside of his shaft. He felt Justin’s ass buck back up towards him, a futile effort to get him to pay more attention.

“Oh God,” he said, as he began stroking himself faster.

“Come,” he said, knowing when Justin’s fingers brushed against the head of his cock it was all over. He felt the spasms begin. “Shoot that load of jizz. You know you want to. Come for me, dirty boy.”

Justin began to shoot, catching most but not all in the palm of his hand. When the last spasm had finished wracking his slender body, he slowly turned over. There were remnants of semen on his chest, cock, and balls. Meeting Brian’s eyes, he knew what was to come, so he was unsurprised when Brian moved to straddle him, tongue lapping his chest clean, then moving slowly down to lick his cock clean. Finally, Brian turned his attention to his ball sac, scrupulous in his attention to detail.

Finishing the task at hand, he glanced at Justin’s cupped palm. Eyes locked on Brian’s, he extended his hand. Ducking his head, eyes rolled upwards so that he met Justin’s, Brian lapped the rest of the spunk from Justin’s hand, licking it clean. He could feel the teen shudder and knew that he was still turned on, if not hard for the moment. It was a mirror of what they’d done that morning in the shower.

“Um good,” he said, licking his lips. “That was hot.”

Justin stared at him. “Fuck me, Brian. Pound the shit out of me. I want your cock deep inside my hot little ass.”

He simply smirked but reached for the lube and a condom. Tearing the foil packet, he proceeded to lube himself, then started to lube Justin when the teen said, “No lube.”

Staring at him, he said, “Are you sure?” The last thing he wanted was to hurt him, though they both liked it rough on occasion.

Justin nodded. Still Brian hesitated. He really didn’t want to hurt Justin though he knew the rimming had left him wet with saliva. “It’s okay,” he insisted. “It’ll be fine.”

Brian rolled the condom over his achingly hard dick and said, “Face to face? Or doggie style?”

“From the back,” Justin said.

Kneeling on the bed, Justin felt the bed shift as Brian moved into position behind him. He felt Brian position the cockhead at his asshole, then begin to slowly enter, waiting as the muscles loosened to allow him entrance. He pushed past the first ring of muscles. He shifted to gain deeper penetration, and then began to thrust, feeling the muscles loosen to allow him access even as they began to grip his cock. Starting out slow, then gradually increasing speed, Brian began to thrust anew. He moved in and out until the tip of his cockhead rested just inside then did the same thing as Justin arched his back, bucking his hips backwards, wanting more of his dick inside him.

“Fuck me,” he moaned. “Fuck me.”

Soon Brian was pistoning his hips in a nearly punishing rhythm as Justin met every thrust and stroke. Then he began to hit Justin’s prostate on nearly every stroke. He knew from the teen’s movements that he was close. He felt Justin stiffen and unload his balls, then a few minutes later Brian knew he was coming, unloading his own balls. He filled the condom with hot spunk, feeling it wash back over his cock. He was glad for the reservoir tip. He gently pulled out as Justin collapsed onto the bed below him, the teen whimpering from the sudden emptiness. He collapsed on top of Justin, spent and exhausted. Tossing the condom aside, he flopped onto his back. Justin rolled over and saw that Brian’s dick was still glistening from the load he’d shot. His eyes gleamed.

Moving to straddle Brian, his head disappeared between Brian’s legs, tongue licking the interior of his thighs, then moving to take Brian’s prick into his mouth, licking it clean. Then he slowly did the same to Brian’s balls. Once done, he raised his head and met Brian’s eyes.

“Come here,” Brian said, his own voice hoarse.

Justin did so, surprised when Brian indicated he wanted him to lie on top of him. All wet and sticky, he thought. “That was fucking hot.” Much better than talking, he thought. It had been hot having Justin lick him clean, like a kitten, he thought. “Very, very hot.”

Looking at Brian, he said, “Brian.”

“Hmm,” the man said, eyes closed.

“We’re not done for the night, are we?”

Brian chuckled. “Horny little boy, aren’t we? We’re taking a short commercial break.” Though Brian secretly thought that he was worn out, he was willing to let Justin ride him for a while.

“Good,” he thought. He wanted Brian to fuck him all night long. He was well aware of the fact that Brian was firmly in the driver’s seat, and he was content with that. Control, at least for the moment, remained Brian’s. Justin understood all too well the man’s need for control. He did not know that he fell asleep before Brian or that Brian watched him drift into sleep, thinking how he resembled a Botticelli angel, albeit one who was well-fucked. Somehow he doubted the painter had intended that.

Sleep proved elusive for Brian so that he finally slipped from bed, careful not to disturb the sleeping Justin. He went into the bathroom to piss, realizing just how much he’d missed having someone to fuck who actually cared about him. Who wasn’t just a vessel for him to get off in. Hell, he realized, I missed him. On more levels than just fucking, he admitted. He’d actually missed having someone to talk to. Someone who met him on an intellectual level and didn’t think comic books were literature.

He slipped into his black silk robe and stole quietly down the stairs. Retrieving the bottle of Jim Beam and a glass from the liquor cart, he took up a position on the couch. Pouring a good inch of whiskey into the glass, Brian sat there, looking out at the star dappled sky. Lights from the kitchen provided the only illumination, so that he was all but shrouded in darkness.

Unaware of how long he sat there deep in thought, he did not hear, at first, Justin begin to stir. Immediately aware of Brian’s absence from the bed, he stood naked for a moment, before wrapping the discarded sheet around him, Roman-toga style. “Brian,” he said, softly, noticing the head resting on the back of the couch. He could see the bottle of Jim Beam and wondered just how much Brian had drunk. 

Not stirring, Brian said, equally quiet, “I’m down here.” The gravity worried him.

Tentatively, Justin joined him. Brian’s robe gaped a bit, leaving a portion of his chest exposed to the chilly air. He reached for the glass of whiskey and took a swallow. Wordlessly Brian handed him the bottle of Beam. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” was the snapped and curt response.

Not believing that for a nanosecond, Justin simply kissed his cheek, putting the bottle down. He knew that if Brian wanted to talk he would. “Good night, Brian.” He knew that the fucking was over for the moment. I love you, he wanted to say but knew that it would only set Brian off.

He rose to return to the bedroom when he heard Brian say, “I guess we need to buy you a robe.”

It was a tacit acknowledgement that Justin would be spending more nights in the loft. “There’s a toothbrush in the bathroom. I won’t be long.”

Justin mounted the stairs, moving slowly, still a little sore from the earlier pounding he’d received. He looked back at Brian. He resembles Heathcliff, he thought, wondering if for a time he’d been Brian’s Catherine. It was all too easy to imagine Brian wandering the cliffs and the moors. He saw Brian reach for the bottle and pour himself more whiskey with more than a little sadness tinged with irritation. Some things didn’t change, Justin thought, resigned to the fact that Brian would sit there and brood. He walked in to the bathroom. Opening the medicine cabinet, he was startled to see that the bottle of codeine was on the top shelf. He didn’t forget, he thought.

“I didn’t forget.”

Startled, he whirled to face Brian who’d dropped the robe just inside the bedroom, standing naked in front of him. “I----” Words failed him.

Brian smiled ruefully. “But I didn’t let myself think you’d come back.”

Justin met his eyes. “All I wanted to hear was that I mattered. That I was more than just a convenient fuck.”

“So did I.” The quietly spoken words had the effect of a gunshot in a silent room. “You stopped being a convenient fuck when you rabbited to New York with my credit card. You stopped being just a fuck the night of your eighteenth birthday when you met me on that dance floor after saving my ass from Kip Thomas, though you didn’t tell me. That night you let me fuck you until dawn,” he reminded him. “And you slid way past my barriers the night of the prom. So don’t fucking say that you didn’t matter to me.” The pain glittered in Brian’s eyes. “That you don’t matter to me.”

Justin took a step towards him, noticing that Brian took an involuntary step backwards and flinched. Christ, he thought. Does he really think I’m going to hit him? “Brian, I lost the person I was when I got bashed by that fucker. I came out of that coma changed. I’m not the same kid who stood down on the street and told you that I wanted you. I’ve grown up a little bit.”

“I know,” he said, unable to keep the weariness or sadness from creeping into his tone. And I lost the boy I fell for, he thought. To be replaced by a man who I had to fall in love with all over again. Whoever said that love was easy had to have been on acid, he thought, bitterly.

That there was sadness in those words was clear even to Justin. Without another word, Brian turned away and returned to slide naked into bed. Justin stood looking at Brian for a long time. I won’t hurt you again, he thought.

When he quietly slid into bed beside Brian, he knew the other man was watching him carefully. “It can’t be like before.”

“What?”

“Whatever we’re doing. It can’t be like before,” he repeated.

Turning onto his side to face him, he said, “I know. What do you need from me?”

He’d started to ask that question earlier and had known that the answer would be vintage Brian. Fuck the shit out of me until the last thing I think about is serious matters, he thought. This time the man’s answer was long in coming. “Honesty. I need you to tell me when something’s wrong, what it is you want or need from me.” So I don’t get fucked over again. “Not just close it off.” Like I do.

“Okay,” Justin’s response was quiet. He studied Brian, recognizing the signs of pain in his eyes. “Brian, what did Michael say to you that day at Melanie and Lindz’s party?”

“Before I decked him?” There was a sort of wry amusement to Brian’s response.

“Yes.”

“He said a lot of shit about you. Then he said that I should have left you in that parking garage. That I’d have been better off without you.” This time there was no disguising the pain he felt and Brian made no effort to hide the pain.

Justin gasped. He was defending me, he realized. If only I’d known. And everyone ripped into him, calling him a monster. He remembered how Debbie’s voice had been the one to lead the assault on Brian. He’d just stood there, stunned, with his new lover who didn’t understand a fucking thing about his relationship with Brian. Everyone had been horrified, he reflected. And I know that I didn't imagine the pain in Brian's eyes when we met in that bathroom though I was snarky to him. “And Ben?”

“Ben called me the biggest slut in Pittsburgh.” Actually, he thought, it was whore. “He wasn’t wrong.”

Justin was reminded of the fact that Brian had shown up at the party with two bears. “And the two motorcycle guys?”

“A couple who were sitting at the bar at Woody’s arguing over china patterns while a porn flick was going on,” Brian said, remembering how disgusted he’d felt. “Imagine talking about china while watching some hot guy getting his dick sucked. So I decided to bring them to the party so they could get Lindz’s advice on china patterns.”

Justin smiled. “You weren’t going to fuck them?”

“God no,” Brian shuddered. “Not my type. For two motorcycle fags, they sure were a bunch of pussies.”

Justin couldn’t help but laugh and Brian smiled. But he was still irritated by the fact that Brian had been so disparaged. Sitting up, he thought of all the times the so-called “slut” had helped his friends. And how they seemed to conveniently forget that. “You’re not a slut.”

“Yes, I am,” Brian said, sitting up. “I define the word slut, Sunshine.”

“Brian,” he said, hating the way Brian’s self-image was so tarnished.

“What, Sunshine?”

“If you’re a slut, what does that make me?”

“A slut-in-training,” he joked, then grew serious. “I am not sorry that I defended you or that I hit Michael.” He remembered taking Michael the steak and his best friend’s accusation that he really loved the kid. He’d denied it but everyone knew it was true. And the plans he’d mentioned had involved a $300/hr hustler. He wondered if Justin would be pissed at him for that or not. He was surprised when Justin moved to straddle him again, then gently pushed him back on the bed.

“Let me prove how grateful I am,” Justin said, as his mouth found Brian’s. They kissed until their lips were bruised. He broke the kiss and saw Brian’s eyes had gone soft even as they’d darkened.

“Justin, you don’t have to do this,” he said.

“I want to.” His own cock was hardening again as was Brian’s. He licked Brian’s throat, an action that had been theirs almost from the beginning; from the night he’d cut in on at Brian and the two potential tricks at Babylon. He wondered if Brian remembered that night also.

He mapped a trail down Brian’s chest with mouth and tongue, stopping at his chestnut pubes. He kissed the base of Brian’s cock, nose nestled into the chestnut hair, then began to lick the shaft as if it were a lollipop. Pausing, he looked up at Brian. “What do you want me to do?”

“Lick my balls,” Brian said, breathless. He’d nearly forgotten just how insatiable Justin could be. “Tongue my balls, then deep-throat me. I want to shoot down your throat, bathe your tonsils with my jism.”

Since that was what Justin was hoping for, he said, “What else?”

“Eat my ass,” he said, voice nearly a whisper. “Put your tongue inside my ass and eat me out.”

“Your wish is my command, master,” he said, only half in jest, as he returned to his place between Brian’s legs. Bending to his task, he was startled when Brian spoke again.

“Justin, wait.”

Huh? Since when does he turn down a blow job from me? 

To Brian, it was a most vulnerable position for both of them. As much as he wanted Justin, and he did, he couldn’t help thinking the younger man’s behavior was due less to sexual desire than to guilt. It was more driven from guilt than a desire to give away his control to Brian. And that didn’t make Brian happy. It was too close to rape for his comfort even though he knew Justin was all too willing.

“Do you really want to play?” he asked. They hadn’t often done the master-and-slave game because neither felt that comfortable giving up control. And, let’s face it, Brian just refused to wear the leather hood. And, honestly, he wasn’t sure that they had enough trust in each other. At least not now. It was too soon, he thought. Too soon for more than what they’d done. The floor show was going to be playing well outside the box as it was, he thought. He hadn't been lying earlier when he'd told Justin that he knew that he'd probably wind up fucking more than just him that night. Though it bothered Justin it bothered him less. Perhaps because Brian was a bit more confident in his sexuality than his young partner. For all his bravado, Justin was still young and less worldly than he might think.

Still Justin nodded, though Brian sensed his own trepidation. Brian sighed, eyes meeting Justin’s. This wasn’t what he wanted though it was rare that Brian Kinney turned down a blow job from such a willing applicant. Justin moved from between his legs and moved to sit beside him. “What’s wrong?”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah.”

“Feels too soon,” he said. "Like you’re rushing something because you think I want it.”

“You don’t?”

Looking down at his hard-on, Brian said, “Fuck yeah. I’m a guy. I always want my dick sucked. But it should be for the right reasons.”

“I’m always the slave,” Justin pointed out.

Despite himself, Brian found himself smirking. “Like you mind the role. Besides, you look hot in nothing but that black velvet collar, you know. That black collar against all that pale, creamy skin. Every gay man and boy’s wet dream in vivid color. You’d sell a hell of a lot of Kleenex.”

Nodding, Justin replied smugly, “Would you buy Kleenex if you saw an image of me in a magazine?”

Brian studied him, appraisingly. “Hell, yes.”

Justin smiled. “You like hearing me beg you to fuck me,” he accused.

“Well, you do it so well,” he said, smugly. “Besides, dirty boy, your hot, tight ass is mine.”

“And here I thought you didn’t get territorial.”

“I don’t. I’m simply stating a fact.”

“Uh huh.”

“You’re hard as iron, Sunshine,” Brian pointed out. 

“So are you.” Brian’s own dick was leaking.

Without a word, Brian slid further down on the bed, lying on his back. He looked back at Justin. “Squat with your knees on either side of my head and feed me your cock.”

“Shouldn’t this be the other way around?” Justin pointed out.

“Why?”

“Um, the height differential, for one. It’d be easier for me to suck you if I was lying on my back with you above me. Feeding me your cock, so I can suck you without straining.”

Mentally kicking himself for forgetting that one pertinent little fact, Brian nodded. The kid had a point. So they shifted position, this time Brian feeding him his cock. He said, “And here I thought you were so limber." But he smiled, as he said, "You know, Sunshine, you are cock-hungry. A slut for my come. Like drinking it direct from the source.”

“Uh huh.” He was quite proud of that fact as he began sucking Brian with abandon as the man bent to his own task. The words had made the teen even hotter, Brian reflected as he began to move up and down on the rigid column of flesh. It didn’t take long for either of them to come, both flooding the other’s mouth with hot, creamy seed moments after the other.

Brian moved from his position first, letting his dick leave the warmth of Justin’s mouth. He licked his lips as he looked down at Justin. “You know that you could have a career in fellatio, Sunshine.”

“As could you. That was hot,” he said, grinning. It had been a long time since he’d done a 69. The thought occurred to him that it was Brian who’d taught him everything he knew; that to some Brian was little better than a Svengali-like character. But, to Justin, he’d always be the love of his life; his Hubbell.

Brian moved back on the bed and Justin lay next to him, both satiated for the moment. And tired, Brian admitted to himself. “I’m thinking Friday for the girls.” Have Saturday to recuperate.

Nodding, Justin said, “What are you planning on telling the guys?”

“You mean Mikey.” He turned to face Justin so his eyes found Justin’s in the dark. “That we have a prior engagement.”

“He’ll be pissed.”

“Let him. I’m not apologizing for you or for our sex life. It’s none of his fucking business anyhow.” How many times has he found me in the backroom getting blown and not looked away or waited until I shot my load before starting in on me? He wondered. “If you and I want to fuck the French Foreign Legion that’s our business. Hell, if we want to open the loft and charge admission that's our business.”

"Um I think that's called prostitution," Justin pointed out. But he understood the point.

Brian began to run the palm of his hand over Justin’s chest, shiny with post-sex sweat. Brushing his nipples he said, “I thought you looked hot with your nipple pierced.”

“I let it grow back.”

“You’d look hot with a barbell through it,” Brian said, the pad of his thumb brushing his nipple, thinking of how he’d loved to tongue Justin’s nipple, playing with the ring, tugging it with his teeth as he fucked Justin.

“I’ll get it re-pierced.” Justin was no fool; he knew what Brian was saying. “Wasn’t it you who said that he wasn’t interested in someone with a ring through their tit?”

“In my defense, I was on my way to getting drunk. And I still thought of you as my stalker.”

Justin smiled. “Is that why you took me home that night and fucked me so hard I saw stars? Tugging on the ring as you took me again and again.”

“So it made me hot,” Brian admitted. “I admit it. I like the fact that you got your tit pierced. Do we have to go on ad nauseam about it?”

“No,” Justin said, leaning over to gently kiss him. 

“I’ll go with you,” Brian said.

“Thinking of getting another tattoo?” he teased.

“No, one is enough.”

They looked at each other and smiled softly. Things weren’t fully back to normal between them yet but they were getting there, slowly but surely. In Justin and Brian fashion.


	14. Finding a Way Back

When Justin finally awoke it was to a sun filled loft and the realization that he was smack in the middle of Brian’s bed, with the sheets around his waist. Huh? He wondered as he blearily looked around. “Brian,” he said, voice quietly ringing throughout the loft. As there was no immediate answer he realized that he was alone, that Brian had apparently gone out. Looking at the clock on the bedside table, he saw it was nearly noon. Christ, he thought, I slept forever but then he and I did spend nearly the entire night fucking and talking. Unusual behavior for Brian. 

Staggering to his feet, he let the sheet drop and padded naked into the bathroom to take a piss, wishing that Brian was there to help out with his morning hard-on. Deciding to take a shower because the sight that greeted him in the mirror wasn’t pleasant even though he looked decidedly fucked-out, Justin could see the streaks of cum and sweat on his skin. Jesus Christ, he thought, we wore each other out. Remembering how Brian had called him a dirty boy turned him on. Amazing the things that I find arousing. Brian offering me my own come to lick out of his hand is one of them. So he didn’t totally disagree with his lover’s assertion that he was a slut for come, as long as it was Brian’s.

After taking a shower at a temperature that Brian would undoubtedly find cold, he pulled on his gray sweatpants and sat down on the sofa. He figured Brian had gone to the gym or something. After all, why would he disturb his usual routine just because they were back together? What the fuck? Why am I double guessing him? Now. Stop psychoanalyzing him, Taylor. 

Before he could continue with his current train of thoughts, he heard the loft door open. “Hey,” Brian said, as he saw the prone figure on the sofa. “You’re up.”

“Well, I was,” Justin teased, seeing the light dance in the depths of Brian’s hazel eyes. “I woke up and you weren’t there with me.”

It was on the tip of Brian’s tongue to retort that he’d lived that reality for far too long but he simply smiled. “I had stuff to do.”

“Uh huh.” He noted that Brian was in casual weekend attire: a black wife-beater and his leather jacket and a battered pair of Diesel jeans that lovingly cupped his package. “You look hot.”

“I know.” Brian was smug as he approached Justin. “So do you want this?”

“I always want that,” Justin purred.

“Not that,” Brian said, amused. “I meant the coffee. Aren’t you the tiniest bit worn out from last night?” Then it occurred to him what he’d said and he nearly groaned.

“Did I wear you out, old man?”

“Little boy you know you didn’t. But even I need time to recuperate. I’m the one who woke up this morning early to go get you coffee.”

“It would be even better if you were naked.”

“You just want to see my dick again.”

“Always.” Justin said, sitting up as Brian stood in front of him, fingers tugging the shirt free of his jeans. “You’re overdressed.”

“I’m your willing servant,” Brian said, smiling as he raised his arms.

Before Justin could attack the lower belly with his tongue that he had just exposed, they heard a loud banging on the door. “Oh, Christ,” they echoed in unison.

“If that’s Mikey,” Brian vowed, taking a step back from Justin reluctantly, “I’m going to fucking kill him. And feed him to the fucking vultures.”

Seeing the dangerous look on Brian’s face, Justin simply nodded. But he followed Brian to the door, pulling it open. Then Brian’s face darkened. “Mom,” he said, the simple word at once an oath and a curse.

Justin closed his eyes. Oh, holy hell. Just take me now. He wished for one of those transporter beams like on Star Trek. “Brian,” Joan Kinney said, her voice the approximate temperature of a glacier.

“Mom,” he repeated. “Why are you here? I think we said all we wanted to say to each other when you called the cops on me to accuse me of molesting your grandson. After all, because I’m a fag I must like touching little boys. Christ.”

“Brian,” she began, then noticed Justin. “Who is this child?” she said, arsenic dripping from her voice like molasses.

“I’m nineteen,” Justin said, belatedly realizing that was bound to cause her less comfort. To her it would be a mere child when compared with Brian’s age of thirty-two. “I’m not a child.”

“What are you thinking?” she asked, turning to her son.

“That he’s hot,” Brian said, taking pleasure in seeing her wince. “That he’s mine. That he’s got a perfect ass.”

“Are you trying to get God to smite you where you stand? Do you want to send me to an early grave? Do you think that will make you happy?” Joan asked, voice quavering and Justin took a moment to wonder if she’d been hitting the cooking sherry before mass. He knew Brian was taking a form of pleasure out of needling her so.

“You know, Mom, I rarely think about you. I am happy.”

“How can you be happy with this---this---” she couldn’t finish the sentence.

“This what, Mom? What were you going to say?”

Joan glared at her son, an expression so familiar to Justin that it took his breath away. Brian wore the same expression when he was pissed. “This child.”

“This child as you call him is a man. He’s not a boy,” Brian said, the look in his eyes warning Justin not to say anything. “He’s an adult. And he’s standing right here, Mom.”

“I thought we raised you better. That Jack and I gave you better values. I don’t know where we failed.”

Justin bit his tongue. “I think you should go.” The quietness of his tone was deadly. 

“Brian, I’ll----” she began.

“You’ll what, Mom?”

Meeting his eyes, she straightened her spine and said, “I’ll pray for your immortal soul, Brian. That you see that living as a sodomite can only bring you pain. That the sins of the flesh aren’t worth the eternal damnation you’ll be facing.”

Without a word, Brian pulled Justin closer to him. “Mom, you remember him, don’t you? You know the day you came over to give me the chocolate cake. We stood right here and had this same fucking conversation.”

“Don’t use such language,” she said, the effrontery clear to her even if it was lost on her son.

“Why not, Mom? After all, the term fucking is old. And it seems to fit me so much better than making love, doesn’t it? Because only straight folks can make love. That’s something that we fags can’t possibly enjoy. Right, Sunshine?”

“Brian Aidan Patrick Kinney,” she said, horrified.

Looking at Justin, Brian said, mockingly, “Justin, honey, I got the full name. I should be scared now, shouldn’t I?” He met his mother’s cold eyes and said quietly, “Get the fuck out before I call the cops and have you thrown out.”

“I’m still your mother.”

“And a fine one you’ve been,” he said, derision seeping into every word. “Claire’s a washed-up divorcee and I fuck men. And you stood by without saying a word when your dearly departed husband beat the shit out of me. So go be a fucking martyr to the cause for someone else. Saint Patrick has left the building in this home. I want you out of here, Mom. Oh, there’s a bottle of vodka over there if you want one. It’s so much better for your soul than those votary candles you insist on lighting.”

Stunned at the vitriol in Brian’s tone, Justin could only watch as his lover walked slowly into the bedroom and sank down on the bed. But it was clear to him just how hurt Brian was by his mother’s callousness and judgmental behavior.

“Why are you with him?” Joan asked, her voice weary; her words an unconscious echo of Melanie’s.

“Because I love him.”

“You love him?” she said incredulously. “You’re a mere child. And he’s a monster. He molested my grandson.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that her grandson was a fucking liar and homophobe but he refrained. “No, Mrs. Kinney, he didn’t. Brian may have sex with men but he’s no pederast. And for you to come into his home and attack him in front of his partner is inexcusable. You, as an allegedly Christian woman, should know better. Now I think you should leave.”

“Do you even know my son?”

“Better than you, Mrs. Kinney. I’m the one he came home to after his father died. I’m the one who almost died in an attack because I went to a prom where my older male lover attended. I’m the one who has seen Brian in moods you can’t even imagine. I’m the one who has seen him sacrifice his own comfort to make me comfortable. He takes care of those he loves. I love him more than you. You say you love your children but Claire’s miserable and Brian’s damaged to the core. You should take your hypocrisy elsewhere. Go fuck up someone else’s life.”

“How dare you,” she hissed, somehow getting her second wind. “How dare you be so insolent to me, young man?!”

Before Justin could respond, they heard a strong, quiet voice say from the bedroom, “Mom, get the fuck out. He’s here because he’s the only one who thinks I matter. That I’m worth giving a shit about. And he speaks for me. When have you ever done the same? I won’t ask you again to leave.”

Wrapping what remained of her tattered dignity about her like a cloak, Joan walked with a rigid carriage to the drink cart and picked up the most expensive bottle of vodka. The irony was cold and not lost on Justin as he watched her walk out. Once again she’d fulfilled her son’s expectations of her. Staring after her for a moment, he went to close the door behind her and lock it.


	15. Finding a Way Back

Turning back, Justin started to go back to the sofa when Brian said, “No. Sunshine, come here.”

Justin walked up the stairs and Brian looked at him, an inexpressibly sad expression on his face. Whatever he was expecting Brian to say it wasn’t what came out of his mouth. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Did he just thank me? Surely I must be hearing things.

“Standing up to that cold, frigid bitch. Did you mean what you said?”

“Yes,” Justin said. “Brian, she’s your mother.” And that mattered to him even if it didn’t to Brian.

“Not in all the ways that count. No, Joan Kinney has never been my mother. She was the vessel that bore me but she treated me the same way she’d have treated a kitten who was born blind. Only I was a human child and she couldn’t wring my neck and toss me out like yesterday’s news. I was her burden to bear because she stood up to Pop when he wanted her to get an abortion. Her fucking Christian duty.” The pain in Brian’s voice was palpable and heart-breaking. Justin still had that childlike faith in the hope that all parents would love their children even though both of them had found that not to be true.

“Brian,” Justin started but he simply shook his head.

“No talking. I just want to feel for now. Justin, she’s not worth our thoughts. She took the vodka, didn’t she?”

Sadly Justin nodded and heard him laugh bitterly. “Of course she did. And I’m betting it was either Ketel One or Gray Goose.”

Again Justin nodded. Brian met his eyes and said, “The one good thing Joan Kinney passed on to me was an appreciation of good booze. Although I don’t know that I should credit her with that. It is after all an Irish thing.”

“Brian,” Justin began again.

Wordlessly Brian began to unbutton his jeans and said quietly, “Make me forget. Take me to a place where I don’t think anymore except about the pinnacle of pleasure. The place of the unending orgasm.” He slipped out of the jeans and tossed them away. Turning back to Justin, he smiled and said, “You’ve always wanted to do with me what you wanted. Now’s your chance.”

Faced with a naked Brian whose sexual appeal was as tantalizing as that of a child drawn to an ice cream cone, Justin nevertheless hesitated. He slipped out of his own sweatpants, eyes drawn to the sleeping cock nestled in the chestnut pubes. He knew that Brian’s pain management system included getting drunk and high; often it included sex with multiple partners. Now, Brian was finding that release with him.

He straddled Brian, noticing the man’s eyes were closed. “Brian,” he said, softly.

“Hmm,” the hazel eyes slid slowly open, taking a moment to focus on his face.

“Is this what you want?”

“Yes,” the words seemed torn from him. His eyes opened and he tugged Justin down so that he could find the teen’s mouth with his own. “I want you,” he said.

Brian wasn’t hard and he knew that it would take him some time. Joan Kinney was the epitome of an anti-erection device. He sighed when he felt Justin’s mouth on his throat, the tongue slowly licking a path down his torso, stopping to wash over his navel with deliberate strokes. He raised his hands and put them above his head, totally giving himself over to the attention he was getting from Justin. 

“Brian, what do you want me to do?”

“Um,” he sighed. “Lick my nipples.”

Justin redirected the course of his tactile assault on Brian. He licked up his ribcage and down the other side, avoiding the sensitive nubs of flesh. He then licked in slow, decreasing circles around Brian’s nipples, affording both the same treatment. “Justin,” Brian moaned out, as his tongue finally made contact, then drawing his nipple inside the hot warmth of Justin’s mouth, sucking until Brian cried out, the line being reached between pleasure and pain. Both of them had high pain thresholds. Doing the same to the other one, Brian couldn’t help but arch up into him as Justin continued his assault, finally letting the flesh slide free, hard and standing out from Brian’s chest, shining with saliva.

Brian’s dick was arching towards his belly, tip leaking pre-come. Again moving down his body, Justin’s nose buried itself in his pubes, as if he were a dog scenting out a trail. It smelled good; innately Brian. Avoiding his dick for the moment, he concentrated on Brian’s sac, lapping at it with broad strokes of his tongue, tongue licking the sensitive skin of his perineum. Then he took one of his full balls into his mouth, rolling it, before doing the same to the other. “God, Just,” Brian moaned. 

When Justin finally took Brian’s stiff prick into his mouth, he sucked the erection, lips tightening around the engorged head, as he trailed his tongue slowly along the shaft. He concentrated for long moments on the shaft as he felt Brian begin to writhe, and his fingers fist in his hair, as Brian fought the need to thrust into his welcoming warmth. His tongue played in Brian’s cock slit, as it flicked over the tip of Brian’s dick, rewarded with a taste of freely leaking come. “You hot little boy,” he gasped out, as he felt Justin’s tongue probe his piss hole. 

Letting him slip free for a moment, Justin said, “I want you to fuck my throat, Brian. I want to swallow your seed.” Make me your witness, he thought, reminded briefly of the Sarah MacLachlan song.

Eyes darkened with lust and the need for Justin’s mouth to be on him again, he only nodded. “Mouth on me now,” he grunted out.

As he felt Justin’s mouth on him again, Brian knew he was close even before he felt Justin’s hand begin to alternately tug on his balls, and stroke the sensitive skin between balls and asshole. “Slide a finger in me,” he said, waiting as Justin did so. His hole eagerly accepted the sudden intruder. Mimicking the up and down movement of his mouth, Justin worked his finger in and out of Brian’s hole, knuckle knocking on the outside ring, causing him to whimper. “Aw fuck,” he moaned.

Now Justin freely lapped at the sensitive skin under the head of Brian’s cock. Relaxing his throat muscles, he felt Brian slide deeper inside, until the head of his dick was resting against his throat. Working his balls continuously, he knew when Brian was about to shoot, hips arching up towards his mouth. Then his mouth was flooded with creamy, hot jism. Continuing to orgasm, Justin worked to swallow the full load, as the contractions passed, leaving Brian’s body limp. He swallowed most but not all, saving some in his mouth as Brian slid out of his mouth.

“Oh, God, Justin,” he ground out as the teen raised his head. He met the teen’s eyes and beckoned him closer. When their mouths met in a kiss, Justin passed him the rest of his semen, as his tongue found Brian’s in a sensual dance. 

Pausing, Justin rolled away from him. Brian fumbled for his pack of cigarettes, finally finding one and lighting it. He handed the cigarette to Justin who took a drag before passing it back to him. It occurred to Justin that he’d just been used but somehow it didn’t matter. Languidly Brian said, “I know that wasn’t what you were expecting for brunch.”

Turning onto his stomach, he looked at Brian. “I always appreciate a high protein snack.”

“I’ve taught you so well,” he said wryly. “But I guess you actually want food.” Then looking at Justin, he said, “We can’t all have mothers like Debbie or Jennifer, Justin. Mine would be happy if the earth opened up and swallowed me where I stand.”

“Was it really that bad for you growing up?” Justin said, heart aching for the pain of Brian’s childhood or lack of one, so it seemed.

Brian glanced at him. “You’ve met my mother. You went to my sister’s house for me. And you doubt that I had a fucked-up childhood?”

“No,” Justin said, sighing. “That wasn’t what I meant?”

“Then what, Sunshine?” Brian said, his own voice growing weary. This is why he didn’t invite his fucking family over for Sunday dinner. It was more like the Addams family than Ozzie and Harriet. Or even Ozzie and Sharon. He took another pull on his cigarette and sat up. “You had an idyllic childhood up until the time I made my ill-fated entrance into your life. Everything would’ve been fine if you hadn’t met me. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt.” I wouldn’t have gotten hurt, he silently added.

“That’s bullshit. Chris Hobbs probably would have attacked me regardless. And I would still have been the faggot son to my dad, Brian. Try another one, please.”

“Okay, Sunshine,” Brian spit out, words harsh. It occurred to him that he had wanted to bask in the languor post-sex not talk. But Sunshine wanted to talk so Brian was willing to indulge him. For the moment. “I think Jack first hit me when I was around Gus’s age. He stumbled into the house one afternoon drunk. I think I’d left my erector set out on the living room floor and he took a header onto the floor, narrowly missing the linoleum in the kitchen. Sometimes I wish it had been in a different position.” Meeting Justin’s eyes, he saw the compassion resting in the serious blue eyes. “He jumped up and, seeing me, asked me what the fuck I thought I was doing leaving my toys in the middle of the floor. Mom was in the kitchen or upstairs, I can’t remember. So he looms over me and I’m fucking scared. For Christ’s sake, I’m not even four years old and my dad is yelling at me. He keeps yelling and finally I piss my pants.” Hesitating a brief moment before plunging onwards, he muttered, “Sure you want me to continue?”

Uneasily Justin nodded. “Then bring me the fucking bottle of Beam, Sunshine.” Because I sure as shit can’t, no won’t, talk about this sober.

Standing, Justin tentatively walked down the stairs, knowing that Brian’s eyes followed his descent. He retrieved the bottle of Beam and a glass and returned to Brian. His eyes were so dark as to nearly be impenetrable. Handing Brian the bottle and glass, Justin sat down near the edge of his side of the bed, as far away from Brian as he could be without standing on the stairs. If Brian noticed his position, he didn’t comment, just continued talking.

“He calls me a sissy boy, says only babies piss their pants. That I need to buck up. Then he backhands me and I fall backwards onto the floor. He jerked me up and pulled down my pants, saying, ‘that I didn’t deserve to have a penis. Because only real little boys are worth having a dick. That I’m a pussy. That I’m a disgrace to him, that I shouldn’t have been born. Then he drags me into the bathroom. He bends me over the toilet and,” Brian’s voice got soft and Justin felt a heightened sense of unease and horror. But Brian continued, “He takes off his belt and it’s the cured leather one that has a metal buckle. You with me, Sunshine?”

Justin could only nod, rendered silent by the horror of Brian’s tale and his memory of an event that happened over twenty years before. “Instead of hitting me with the leather, Jack makes sure that it’s the buckle that hits my skin on every lash. He’s whaling on me and I’m crying and trying to understand what I did to make Pop so mad when Mom comes into the bathroom. She’s horrified but says only, ‘Jack, be careful. You don’t want to have to take him to the hospital. How would you explain this?’ That was her fucking concern. How it would look to the fellow parishioners and the public. She didn’t give a shit about her four-year-old son. That it was me.”

“Stop,” Justin said, voice trembling. “Stop.”

“You wanted to know,” Brian said, realizing that his words are cruel. “So Jack stops and for a few days afterwards I’ve got an imprint of that fucking belt buckle in the cheek of my ass. And that bastard did this to a fucking four year old kid. So excuse me if I don’t have more compassion or sympathy for my mother. She stood by and did nothing. Hell, I suppose I should consider myself lucky that Jack didn’t try anything else with me. God knew he didn’t think I was worth shit.”

“Brian,” Justin said, tears freely flowing now.

“Allergies?” Brian said, voice incredibly cold and cruel.

Justin looked at him. “Yeah, it’s my fucking allergies.” He stood and retrieved his sweatpants and a t-shirt. He padded downstairs to the living room and sank down on the sofa, head in his hands as the sobs quietly wracked his body. Orgasm to fight in the space of thirty minutes, he thought, bitterly. Life with Brian resumes as normal. 

In the bedroom, Brian looked down at himself. Then he got up and went to the bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror for long moments. Great, just fucking great, Brian. You hurt him. Was that what you intended? Make Justin pay for asking you about your life? Then, he thought, well, he asked. Like you asked for Jack to hit you, to make you feel like shit every day of your fucking childhood, a tiny voice echoed in the back of his head. Shit, he thought.

He returned to the bedroom and pulled on the pair of jeans. Sighing, he joined Justin in the living room, deliberately sitting at the opposite end of the sofa. “Justin, I’m—”

“What, Brian? You’re what?”

“Sorry.”

“Sorry’s bullshit.”

“Don’t toss my own words back in my face. Wasn’t it you who said being mean to you never really worked?”

“I lied,” Justin said, but the tears had stopped. “You know you can be deliberately cruel.”

Brian nodded. He hadn’t set out to hurt Justin; he had only wanted to make a point. “You wanted to know.”

“Yeah, I did. Brian, no child deserves that. Especially not one who’s barely out of babyhood. How can you remember that?”

Brian simply looked at him. “If it had happened to you, would you have forgotten?”

Mutely, Justin shook his head. No, I wouldn’t have forgotten. “We shared something incredibly intimate and within the space of a few minutes I feel like shit.”

Brian stood abruptly, looking at him. “I can take you home. We’ll chalk the whole thing up to an experiment that went awry.”

“Fuck you, Brian.”

“Didn’t you just do that?”

“You want me to leave?”

Wordlessly, Brian only returned to the bedroom. Lying back on the bed, he lit another cigarette, slowly blowing smoke rings. Justin sat on the sofa thinking. He’d walked back into this relationship, or whatever the fuck it was, with open eyes. No one had ever said that life with Brian would be easy. In every person’s life you reach a crossroads, where you need to find your own direction, your own sense of purpose; Justin was facing his own. A crisis of conscience. 

Sighing resignedly, he walked slowly up the stairs, lying down on Brian, so that his head rested on his chest. “You OK?” Brian asked, voice quiet.

“Yeah. Are you?”

Not answering the question posed, Brian said, “I came to terms with my childhood a long time ago, Justin. Whatever else your father is, he loves you. He wanted you when your mom told him she was pregnant. I can guarantee that Craig didn’t tell her to go and get a fucking abortion. Do you know what it’s like living with that every day, knowing that the only reason you exist is because of some antiquated Catholic dogma?”

“No,” Justin said.

Brian rolled them over so that he loomed above Justin. “You asked me if my childhood was really that bad. You’ve just had a taste of the horrors of the Kinney family. Do you really want to be with me?”

“You’d never hurt me, Brian.”

“You shouldn’t trust me so blindly, Sunshine.”

Justin sighed and looked up at him. “Just because your parents were jackals doesn’t mean that you are. You are who you are despite your parents. You gave your parents’ the royal fuck you when you became a success. Don’t let them take that away from you.”

“When did you become so wise?”

“I don’t know,” he answered. “Brian, hurting each other doesn’t make the pain go away.”

“I know,” he said, his voice tight. I don’t like hurting you, Sunshine. “You know this wasn’t how I planned today.”

Smiling slightly, he said, “So don’t let your mom fuck it up. Tell me how you wanted to spend today.”

“Let’s get out of here. We both could use some air.”

Nodding, he asked, “Do you want to get cleaned up first?”

Brian shook his head. “Let’s go get some ice cream.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Brian Kinney?” he tentatively joked.

Brian smiled. “Then we can go to see your apartment.”

He nodded. “Why do you want to see my apartment?”

“Well, I want to see the room you jacked off in and the toys you acquired during our unfortunate estrangement. Test out your bed, make sure it’s safe. And we should probably talk to Daphne so she has time to consider this whole thing. Maybe watch a movie.”

Justin nodded. “What about Cynthia?”

“Ah, yes, my lovely and talented assistant. Leave her to me. I know just how to handle her. We’ll need to make a stop at Forbidden Fruit on the way home.”

Staring at him, Justin asked, “Are we okay?”

“Yeah, we’re okay. I just had a brief lapse into being a prick, Justin.”

“You’re evil,” Justin said, wondering just what his lover had in mind.

“No, I’m sweet,” Brian said.

They would remember that conversation in the days and weeks to come when things emerged to test their newfound conviction to each other and their relationship.


	16. Finding a Way Back

Okay, this story has the boys playing way outside the box. But it will end up with the boys being with each other and others. So I hope you enjoy and reviews are wanted.

* * *

An hour later, Brian and Justin pulled up in front of the co-ed’s apartment building. Turning to Brian, Justin asked, “You think I should have called first?”

“Worried you’re going to be walking into some hot steamy breeder sex, Sunshine? It’s your apartment too,” Brian reminded him.

“You’re a lot of help.”

“I try.”

Determining that Brian was incorrigible, Justin merely rolled his eyes. Maturity was sometimes sadly lacking in their relationship, he thought, bemused by Brian’s behavior. “Come on. We’ll take the stairs so you can walk off the fat you’re going to be bitching about all week.”

“I’d prefer it have been protein,” Brian quipped, winking lasciviously at him.

“Okay, smart ass.” Justin unbuckled his seat belt and looked at Brian. “Coming?”

“Hope to be.”

“You know you’re the only one who had an orgasm today,” Justin reminded him. 

“You telling me you didn’t jack off in the shower. Why, Sunshine, have you learned nothing from me about proper shower behavior?”

“Brian,” he admonished. “I lost count last night. Besides it’s more fun when you’re playing with me. And I like when you stick a finger up me as you’re going down on me.”

“Ah, Sunshine, that has to be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” But Brian unbuckled his own seatbelt, witty repartee forgotten for the moment.

A few minutes later, Justin was unlocking the front door, trying to ignore the moans emanating from inside their apartment. Brian cocked his head, listening. “Sounds like someone’s getting off.”

As if that wasn’t perfectly obvious, Justin thought, slightly irritated. “No shit. I didn’t see Curtis’s car.” Then it dawned on him. Exchanging looks with Brian, he was disconcerted to see the older man grin slyly.

Understanding the inner workings of Brian’s mind all too well, he said, “Oh no, Brian. We should go.”

“And let Daphne have all the fun. Uh uh.”

“What about the floor show?” Justin reminded him.

“Oh, what’s to say we can’t offer a preview before the main attraction. I don’t recall that being against the rules.”

“That’s absolutely wicked,” Justin said as Brian simply smirked in that way he did. Feeling reluctant about intruding on his friend’s obviously private and intimate moment, it was Brian who very quietly opened the door. Motioning Justin to go in before him, Brian closed the door without a sound. The ease with which he did that made Justin wonder just how much practice he’d had sneaking in and out of apartments. 

Justin noticed that Daphne’s door was open. She clearly hadn’t been expecting company or him to come home. It made him wonder if Curtis wasn’t the only one needing sex tips. Although he certainly hadn’t explored much when he’d fucked Daphne. And his experience with men at the time had been fairly limited despite her later accusation about him turning into a “full time” homosexual. He turned around to see Brian half-naked with the beginnings of a major hard-on. Mouthing, what the fuck are you doing? Justin waited as Brian very quietly padded nonchalantly into Daphne’s bedroom.

The alarmed squeak which emanated from the bedroom was quickly replaced by nervous giggles. “Hey, Justin,” Brian said, “the coast is clear. Come on in.”

Justin felt his face grow red. Bastard, he thought, but his feet betrayed him. He walked into Daphne’s bedroom to find her half-naked with a 12-inch dildo beside her on the bed and an anal vibrator that she clearly had used before. Brian had dropped his shirt and was reclining on the bed as if he’d done this a million times before. Glancing at the television, he was shocked to see that she was watching an adult film. And not, judging from the looks of it, a heterosexual porn film. Why, Daphne, you dirty little girl, Justin thought, reappraising his oldest friend. It was freeze framed the middle of a guy getting reamed by a dick that had to be at least ten inches while sucking another one, while a third was sucking him off. Not bad, he thought.

“Hi, Justin,” she squeaked, looking more than a little alarmed and embarrassed herself. This hadn’t been the way she thought she’d spend her Sunday afternoon. With two hot men both of whom happened to be gay. And with her in the middle of a clearly compromising position. But things were looking up, she thought, glancing down at Brian’s non-deflating prick. If anything, Brian seemed to be growing harder, she thought. It had been impressive when it was not erect, she recalled. Now it was positively beautiful.

“Sunshine,” Brian said, idly stroking his cock, “you’re overdressed.”

“No, I’m not,” he said, feeling his own face flame. But Brian crooked a finger and motioned him forward. As if a marionette, Justin felt himself drawn inexorably towards Brian, a moth towards a very hot flame. He stood by the bed and Brian ran a hand lazily down the front of his pants, cupping his balls.

“I believe you are,” he lazily drawled. “Wouldn’t you agree, Daph honey?”

“Um yeah,” she said, thinking that this more than made up for the botched experience yesterday. She’d been more than a little disappointed that Justin had cut short her very enlightening conversation with Brian about the finer points of cock-sucking. She was learning a few very important things. And besides it had been kind of fun to have Curtis shoot on her tits. But he could learn a few things about how to get a woman off. Somehow, looking at the man beside her, she doubted Brian had ever had that problem with his sexual partners of either sex. He was so damn confident in his own sexuality.

“And you, darling girl, are over-dressed too,” Brian said, while continuing to fondle Justin through the fabric. Justin stepped back and dropped the sweatpants. After Joan’s visit and the subsequent venture into sucking Brian’s magnificent cock, he had decided that underwear was a waste of time. He stripped off his t-shirt, leaving him standing naked in front of his lover and best friend, noticing that his own dick was hardening.

“Um, no I’m not.” She was pleased to discover that her voice did not squeak again.

Glancing at his resigned partner, Brian cocked an eyebrow. “Justin, what do you think?”

Joining them on the bed, Justin glanced at his best friend and said, “Brian’s right, Daph.” Noticing that the bra had a front clasp, he deftly reached over and unclasped it, revealing two perfectly shaped breasts with nipples that were hardening in the sudden exposure to the chilly air.

“Not bad, Daph,” Brian said, approving.

Glancing at him, she said, “Thanks. I think.”

“Um that’s a compliment, Daph,” Justin said, glancing at his partner. “You know we actually came over here with a proposition for you,” he said.

“You did,” she said, moving so that the bra fell to the floor leaving her completely nude. “What was it?”

“Well,” Justin began, glancing at Brian who nodded at him to continue, “we wanted to extend an invitation to you for a private floor show.”

“You did, huh?” a fourth voice said from the door.

All three faces looked towards the door. Oh, hell, Justin thought. Curtis, the absentee boyfriend. Looking at Daphne, he saw that her face was creased with consternation. Clearly she hadn’t been expecting this either. But then he and Brian hadn’t exactly locked the door behind them either. It was Brian who spoke up, voice firm and without fear of the repercussions. “Yeah, we did. I’m Brian.”

“Justin’s erstwhile boyfriend,” Curtis said, taking a step forward as he took in the tableau presented on the bed; the contrasting colors of the bodies. This wasn’t exactly how he thought he’d find his girlfriend, he admitted to himself. Then he felt his cock betray him as it began to stir in his pants. Looking at the television, he was astonished to see the frozen picture. Well, he thought, seems Daphne’s not the only one to question things.

“I prefer lover,” Brian said while Justin snorted. “You must be Curtis.”

“Yeah, Daphne’s boyfriend,” Curtis’s eyes focused unashamedly on Brian’s cock and balls.

Noticing where her boyfriend’s attention rested (and it wasn’t on her, she noticed, but on Brian), Daphne said, “Um, maybe I should put some clothes on.”

“Like what you see?” Brian asked, interested to see what buttons he could push. He clearly wasn’t going to beat the shit out of him and Justin. That much was clear. He was admiring Brian’s dick with way too much envy and interest for that. Suddenly standing, Brian walked towards him, unashamed of his nudity or his swinging dick. 

“Um,” Curtis started and then stopped as Brian began to expertly undo the buttons of the fly of his jeans, brushing his quickening flesh through the cloth of his briefs, the head arching upwards.

“I think you like what you see a little too much, don’t you, Justin?” Brian asked, turning towards his lover. “Daphne?”

Daphne started at the direct question. “Yeah, Bri, I think he does.”

“Curtis, you’re wearing way too many clothes,” Daphne said, addressing her boyfriend. 

Standing, she gently elbowed Brian out of the way and pulled the jeans all the way down to his ankles. Stepping back, Curtis stepped out of them, his earlier shock giving way to arousal. This was like something out of Penthouse Letters, he thought, except it’s with two gay guys, me and my girlfriend. He had to wonder if his reaction was due to Daphne or to the proximity of the very sexy and aroused Brian. 

He pulled his t-shirt over his head, revealing a nicely sculpted chest with both nipples pierced. That had both Brian and Justin arching their eyebrows and giving each other looks. Hmm, Justin thought, I wouldn’t have thought that of Curtis. Had to be fairly recent, he thought. But there was no denying that Curtis was hot and, from the looks of things, hung. And not entirely straight judging from the man’s reaction, he thought. Strange my gaydar didn’t sound off. Or my sensing that he might be bi.

“What exactly is this floor show?” Curtis asked, as Daphne knelt between his legs, tongue darting out to tongue him through the fabric of his briefs. His eyes were locked on Brian’s.

“Justin and I fucking each other in front of Daphne and my assistant Cynthia,” Brian said, admiring Daphne’s technique. “Honey, that’s right,” he said. “But you should use broader strokes of your tongue to really get to him.”

Curtis reappraised him; there were benefits, he reconsidered, to being in a room with two gay men. Both of whom were hot and experienced with sucking dick. So Curtis was reevaluating the situation even as he felt Daphne’s tongue hit his head. “Were you intending to invite me? Considering her pussy is mine?” Curtis asked, the words coming out a near growl.

“Territorial, are we?” Brian asked. “Or just a Neanderthal?”

Nodding slightly, Curtis looked at Justin. “Hey, Taylor, you should join in the fun. Looks like your boyfriend’s dick could use some attention of its own.”

Justin glanced at him. Oh yeah, he thought, this could be fun. For the first time, he was starting to see the side effects of Brian’s idea. But as Justin rose to his feet, Brian took a step forward towards Curtis. Saw the other man inhale as Brian’s mouth swooped down, capturing it with his own. There was a slight, almost imperceptible, hesitation then Justin saw that Curtis was getting into it, hand clasping the back of Brian’s neck, drawing him nearer as their tongues met. The front of Curtis’s briefs was soaked through with saliva and cum, Justin judged. And Daphne was working him like a pro, Justin thought, admiring her technique though there were a few things she could do differently.

When Brian broke the kiss, Curtis was panting. “Interested?” Brian asked, stepping back.

Without hesitation, he said, “Fuck yeah. So when is this floor show?”

“Friday night,” Brian said. “You in or out?”

“In,” Curtis said, as he glanced down at Daphne. “Daphne, let me take my briefs off.”

She stopped in her ministrations and stood up; her own pussy tingling with arousal, needing to get off. “So guys,” she said, and all three men looked at her. “What are the ground rules of this little soiree?”

This time, instead of Brian, it was Justin who answered. “We give Curtis a crash-course in gay etiquette. We show him how to cleanse himself out. And you, Daph.”

She smiled. “No need. I’ve taken it up the ass before. But it might be fun to have someone else show me the ‘proper’ way.”

Both Brian and Justin glanced at her, shocked by that little bombshell. “You have?” Justin said.

“Um, yeah, Justin. Why have three orifices if only two are supposed to have all the fun? Besides, I read a man-on-man sex primer after you came out to me. It told me all about rimming and preparation of the ass and all that stuff. How important it is to be clean down there when a guy’s going to eat you out.”

“So when I fucked you,” Justin began, “you wouldn’t have minded if I’d tried your backdoor?”

She smiled but hesitated. “If I’d be clean down there, no. I wouldn’t have minded.”

Seemed Brian was right, Justin mused, glancing at his boyfriend who slightly inclined his head in acknowledgment.

Curtis glanced at his girlfriend. “What else have you done, Daph?” Intrigued that his girlfriend was more experienced in the sexual arts than he’d originally thought.

“You remember me and Sapphire?” Daphne asked, directing her comment to both Curtis and Justin.

Both men nodded; Brian content for the moment to watch. She smiled and said, “We went to an adult store and bought a double-headed dildo. We fucked each other with it. Then she fucked my ass.”

“What else did you do?” 

“I got my clitoral hood pierced.”

Curtis gasped. “Why the hell didn’t I know that?”

“Because I let it grow back. It was fucking painful to get it pierced. And it began to hurt when I went to pee.”

Remembering how it felt to get his nipple pierced, Justin concurred. “Anything else, Daph?”

Thinking she said, “Well, we went down on each other, licking and fingering each other to orgasm.”

Curtis stared at her. “And you didn’t invite me?”

Meeting his gaze dead-on, she said, “I didn’t know how you’d react. Besides, you seem more turned on by the idea of Brian and Justin than the idea of me with another woman.”

“Actually,” he said, “I find the idea of both really fucking hot. And I notice that it’s a gay porn video that you were watching. Not a straight fuck film.”

Brian joined the conversation at that point. “Hey children, enough talk. I think it’s time for a practical demonstration.” Turning to Curtis he said, “I think you might find you like dick more than you think. And if you want a quick tutorial you should test-drive it on Justin. His dick is easier to swallow than mine. You have to work up to something the size of mine. Justin?”

Glancing at Curtis’ erection which showed no signs of flagging, Justin nodded. He was up for it. “Daphne?”

“Yeah.”

“Anything you want?”

Daphne hesitated, her eyes going to Brian and then back to Justin. Understanding at once what his friend was too shy to say, Justin looked at Brian. “Safe space, right, Bri?”

“Yeah,” Brian said, glancing at Daphne. “Safe space. Daphne?”

“Well, I’d like to watch you two. And I’d like to see one or both of you with Curtis.”

“What about you? You’ll be left out of the party,” Curtis said.

“No, she won’t,” Brian rejoined. “Somehow I doubt Daphne’s gonna miss a bit of the fun. Right, honey?”

She smiled tentatively as Brian moved closer to her, saying quietly, “I told you I’d make good on my promise to fuck you at prom, didn’t I?”

Justin glanced at him; clearly he had forgotten that little fact as a result of the bat. But it was equally clear that Daphne hadn’t. “So, Daph, how many toys do you have? And how many are reasonably sterile?”

Glancing at the two toys on the bed, she said, “I have another couple of dildos and three anal vibrators, in varying sizes, and a clitoral stimulator.” She added the last in case somebody didn’t want to go down on her, tongue flicking her clit, working her to orgasm.

Justin glanced at her with something akin to awe and shock. This was something she’d never told him. Clearly, she really had been fantasizing about it and hadn’t told him every little detail. “I have nipple clamps and handcuffs.”

“Oh, Daph,” Brian said, chortling, “you are so a girl after my own heart. And cock.”

“Anything else?” Curtis asked, looking at his girlfriend.

“Um, blindfolds, Ben Wa balls, and silk cords.”

“Jesus, Daphne,” Justin breathed. How the fuck did I miss this about her? He wondered in shock.

She smirked, a expression similar to Brian’s. “So boys what’s going to happen first?”

“Well,” Brian started, “first you start that movie again. I assume you have favorite parts. Parts that get you hotter than others. By the way, how many of these DVDs do you have?”

Flushing slightly, she nodded. “Um yeah, I do. Maybe six.” She remembered how many times she’d watched it with the volume muted as she worked a vibrator in and out of her pussy while fucking her ass with the anal vibrator. It had been a wonder the rocking of the bed as she’d come hadn’t woken her roommate.

Brian sprawled out on the bed, lazily stroking his cock, as Justin lay down next to him. Daphne and Curtis were the last to join the duo. “So, Daph, what’s your favorite part?” Justin asked, hand stroking his own erection. “What’s your favorite act?”

“Um,” she started. Then hesitated as she felt three pairs of eyes on her. “Well, it’s fucking embarrassing,” she burst out.

“Do tell,” Justin coached her as he looked at Brian. “Safe space, remember. Just us four.”

Daphne handed Brian the control and said, averting her eyes, “I like it when the bottom has two dicks in his mouth and then they pull out and shoot all over him. I like to see the close-up shots when there is come leaking out of his ass and someone laps it all up.” She felt her face flushing under the caramel of her skin.

“Honey, it’s okay,” Brian said. He actually thought that was pretty hot and close to his own blond’s fantasy involving the two of them.

She sent him an appreciate look. Curtis glanced over at Brian and said, “Brian, why don’t you start the movie again. From the point where Daphne likes it.”

“Any particular fantasies you have, Curtis?”

Curtis hesitated before answering. “Yeah, actually, I want to get eaten out. And have my ass fucked while I’m going down on someone else. Have my dick sucked while I’m getting fucked.”

“Anything else?” Brian coaxed. It was always fun to experiment with an eager amateur. 

Meeting Brian’s gaze dead on, he said, “Yeah. Eat Daphne out while someone’s fucking her face and ass.”

Brian glanced at his young lover. “You up for that, Sunshine?”

While the idea of going down on her didn’t have much appeal to him, he could see the picture of him fucking her ass while she was sucking Brian’s dick. Seemed Brian had the same idea as he leaned over to whisper, “You don’t have to eat her out if you don’t want to. You can fuck her tight little ass.”

Looking back at Curtis he said, “What about your ass, Curtis? Won’t your hole feel neglected?”

“Not if you stretch it out first,” Curtis snapped back. “Drive that nine and a half-inch pole of yours deep inside my virgin ass. When’s the last time you did that, Kinney? When’s the last time you had a virgin?”

Acknowledging the dig for what it was, Brian hesitated before answering, “It’s been a while. And Justin’s about as young as I like them. I’m not into chicken.”

“Chicken?” Curtis asked, clearly confused.

It was Justin who answered. “He means really young men who look like pre-adolescent kids. He’s not into kids.”

“You don’t look your age,” Curtis pointed out. “I’ve seen your senior picture, man. You looked really young. It’s hard to believe you were seventeen.”

“He was and that was part of his appeal. His youth was attractive to me. But if I’d thought he was younger than twenty-one, I wouldn’t have gone near him,” Brian said. “I’m not into jail-bait. And I didn’t know he was only seventeen until after I jacked him off that first night. But even then he was legal. Barely. So we were lucky. And legal.”

Curtis nodded, backing off from a topic that was clearly sore for both of them.

“Hey, guys,” Daphne said. “Anyone else want to hear my other fantasies?”

The three males nodded. “Sure,” they chorused.

She grinned. “I want to see someone shoot on the other’s chest and then I want to lick it up. I want to see Justin and Brian rocking together. I like Curtis’s fantasy of him eating me out while someone is fucking my ass. But I really want to feel two dicks inside me at once, one inside my ass while the other is inside my pussy. But I know that may not make all of you comfortable.”

Brian looked at Justin and the blond nodded his head. Glancing at Daphne, Justin said, hesitantly, “Okay, I’ve been really quiet. Daph, I know I was your first. It could have been better for you. I doubt you even had an orgasm and, at the very least, I owed you that. So I’m willing to play outside the box. Today and at the floor show. Whatever we’re both comfortable with.”

Grateful for the acknowledgment of her needs, she nodded slightly. “Okay, I think we’ve done enough talking for now.”

Brian agreed. Curtis glanced at the oldest member of their quartet and said, “So, Kinney, since you’re the master of this arena why don’t you start us off.”

“You really want to play don’t you?” Brian said, meeting Curtis’s eyes. “Well, what do you want to see first?”

“You making my girlfriend come while your boyfriend eats out your ass. I want to see you make her pussy drip.”

Justin closed his eyes; it was never a good idea to directly challenge Brian. “You sure you can handle it? Cause after I’ve had Daphne she may never want to come back to you,” he said, cockily. “After all, my tongue is legendary. Justin can tell you that.”

The blond nodded. 

“Bring it on, man. Bring it on.”

“And what will you being doing while I’m eating Daphne out?” Brian asked, eyes locking on Daphne’s. 

“Bathing Daphne’s hot little throat with my come,” he rejoined. “Giving her tonsils a bath with my spunk.”

Justin reappraised his friend's boyfriend. Clearly he was going to be jacking off while eating Brian's ass. It was a damn good thing they'd prepared for this, he thought.

“Shall the show begin?” Brian asked, as he was clearly the maestro of this little scenario.


	17. Finding a Way Back

Brian hit the play button on the remote so that the sound of a dick moving in and out of an ass filled the room as background music. He tossed the remote away as he met Curtis’s eyes. Curtis nodded slightly and Daphne squirmed on the bed. “Okay, we need to get better situated,” Brian said. “Anything you want, Daphne?”

Blushing slightly, she said, “There’s a toy box under my bed. Curtis, why don’t you get it?”

As Curtis hurried to comply, Brian, Daphne and Justin moved into better positions, although Justin was rather grumpy about being forced to stand, it was better than kneeling as Curtis was going to have to do. 

“What do you want from in here?” Curtis asked, moving the dildo and anal vibrator onto the bedside table. He had to admire the size of the thing and the fact that Daphne might actually be able to fit that whole thing inside of her. The image of her riding the thing while someone was fucking the shit out of her ass was arousing, he mused. Strange that I never really considered the benefits of her having a gay best friend before, he thought, aside from the fact that he’s well-endowed.

Daphne glanced at him and said, “The silk cords.”

Sending her a questioning glance, Brian asked, “Daph?”

“I want my arms to be tied to the bedposts,” she answered, quietly. “I want to be completely at your mercy. I want Curtis to pump my mouth at will, so that my mouth is overflowing with his jizz.”

It was Brian who hesitated. “Are you sure?” The last thing in the world he wanted was her to feel uncomfortable.

She nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Brian sent a glance at Curtis who nodded at him. Brian looked at his boyfriend who smiled. “Daph, you got lube?”

“Uh huh. What do you take me for?” As if he even needed to ask. Like any good boy scout, Daphne was a very good girl scout. She’d learned by example.

“Do you need me to do any preparatory work?” Brian asked. 

She smiled at him. “Whatever you want to do. I like having my nipples played with but I like having the clamps on them too.”

“Any place you’re way too sensitive that I should avoid until you’re close?”

Justin listened to his boyfriend with growing awe. Brian was doing everything in his power to make her comfortable, he realized. He didn’t want her to feel unsafe. “No,” she said. “But I’ll let you know when I’m close. I know you probably don’t like the taste.”

Brian stared at her. “Daph, it may have been a long time since I’ve been with a woman, but I’ve been with enough to know how this goes. I’m okay with this and it’s going to be pretty fucking hard to stop with Justin eating my ass. Trust me, if I wasn’t cool with this, I’d say so. You know me well enough to know that.” And, he thought, I’m doing this sober. Not stoned or high, that should tell everyone something, he thought. Including Justin.

She looked chastened by the rebuttal. “Um,” she said, “I like having my nipples licked. And if a finger goes up my ass while you’re licking me, that’s cool.”

He liked her style; she was open and honest. “Are you clean?” he asked, appraising her.

“Yeah. I cleansed myself out today and a few days ago. I don’t like messes any more than you do, Brian.” Too frigging embarrassing, she thought.

He glanced back at Justin who nodded. “Yeah, I’m cool with this,” Justin said. Glancing at Curtis, he asked, “You ready?”

Curtis nodded. He handed Brian the silk cords and as Brian tied her wrists in a splayed fashion to the iron headboard, he looked down at her and asked, “You need a safe word, Daph honey?”

She shook her head. “If I wasn’t okay with this I wouldn’t be playing. And we sure as hell wouldn’t be using my toys.” She was willing to concede that she’d been fantasizing about this since the first time she’d seen Brian naked. Then she’d only barely been able to restrain herself from drooling but then, she recalled, I was a naïve seventeen-year-old. Uh huh, keep telling yourself that, Daphne. You know this is something you always wanted: Brian and Justin. Somehow she’d always thought it would only be the stuff of dreams.

Brian grinned despite himself. He knew there was a reason he liked Daphne. Curtis knelt with his knees on either side of her head, while Brian gently nudged her legs wider apart. It occurred to Justin that he was kind of getting the raw end of the deal, being the end of the daisy chain but there was time to play. Besides, the floor show with Cynthia at the end of the week was bound to be intriguing. And he’d never seen this side of his best friend or boyfriend, he thought. Strange how Melanie’s taunt about a floor show was actually being enacted in live living color. Oh, if they could see us now, he thought.

Brian shifted position so that he could work his way down her body without interfering with her taking Curtis’s cock into her mouth and so that Justin had better access to his ass. It crossed his mind that he was doing something he hadn’t done in a long time. But like he’d told Justin it was something he knew Daphne had been fantasizing about. And the fact it was Daphne made it a bit more palatable. There was no way that they’d have done this with some strange woman they’d picked up at a bar, Brian admitted. Besides, when Justin had told him about his “deflowering” Daphne, Brian had wondered just how the afternoon had gone even though Justin was unusually reticent about the whole experience.

“Sunshine, you okay back there?”

Justin said, “Yeah, Bri. I’m fine.”

With Daphne’s hands bound, she was unable to control the thrusting of Curtis’s dick so that he was free to pump her mouth at will. She waited as Curtis guided his stiff prick into the waiting warmth of her mouth, and then felt Brian’s mouth on her, his breath hot on her stomach as he worked his way up, tongue blazing a trail, leaving her skin glistening with saliva. 

Justin began to lick Brian’s ass cheeks as he felt his lover begin to lick his best friend’s body. He lapped all over until he gently pried them apart so that the roseate of Brian’s ass was revealed. As Brian felt Justin’s hot breath wash over his hole, his tongue slowly and leisurely began to lap at Daphne’s nipple, drawing the hardening nub into his mouth, sucking until he knew it was probably close to painful for her, though she was unable to tell him due to the cock in her mouth. Then he licked the valley between her breasts and his mouth closed on the other one, laving the nipple with broad strokes of his tongue. When he was done both of her breasts were glistening as she began to suck more fervently on Curtis’s dick, licking the shaft as he began to gently pump.

From behind Brian, Justin lazily licked his perineum between balls and asshole, feeling Brian’s body jump slightly. He licked the area around his hole several times. He took his time to tease Brian, moving from asshole to balls and back again studiously avoiding direct contact. When Justin’s tongue made dead on contact, Brian’s nose was nuzzled in Daphne’s dark pubic hair. Shifting slightly, so that he gave both he and Justin better access, Brian began to slowly lap her lips, tongue making broad strokes, even as he avoided darting inside the folds and carefully avoiding her clit. Felt her arch up into him and knew that he was turning her on. He could smell the slight muskiness of her pussy and continued to lap as Justin’s tongue made its first foray into his asshole, jumping slightly as his tongue moved a bit faster.

Curtis, from his vantage point, above Daphne’s head could see Brian’s assault on his girlfriend’s pussy and Justin’s assault on his ass. Brian continued to lick and then, pointing his tongue, began to enter her copiously dripping pussy. Justin began to dart his tongue in and out of Brian’s ass, lapping the hole even as his hand stole down to stroke his leaking dick, coating the shaft with his pre-ejaculate.

Brian continued his studied assault on Daphne’s pussy even as he felt her begin to grind her hips, wanting to draw his tongue deeper and deeper. Ah that’s my girl, he thought, approving. Questing for her g-spot he knew when he found it because she began to writhe more ardently. Removing his tongue from her pussy, he lapped at her folds until he found her engorged clit, sucking on it, then gently and deftly flicking it with the tip of his tongue as Justin began to eat his ass with more enthusiasm, tongue driving further and further, curling up towards the top of his hole. Brian squirmed as his tongue continued his relentless assault on Daphne as Justin’s tongue drove deeper. He felt Justin’s tongue drive towards the further recesses of his rectum and began to eat faster.

It was Curtis who tugged his balls as he moaned, “I’m going to come.” His cock-head hit the back of her throat, and Daphne relaxed her throat muscles so that she wouldn’t gag. She felt him begin to shoot, the shudders wracking his body, as his balls began to unload a hot, creamy load of spunk down her throat. Eagerly swallowing, she was not surprised when Curtis lifted up and sprayed her face and upper torso with the rest of his load, jerking his dick. He glanced at her and saw that she was in a daze from the assault on both pussy and mouth. Brian was still eating her with enthusiasm, his ass fucking Justin’s tongue, trying to pull it in deeper and deeper. As he did so, he slipped a finger inside Daphne’s box, sliding it in and out, mimicking the movement of a dick.

Taking a moment to regain speech, Daphne moaned, “Brian, keep doing what you’re doing. Flick your tongue over my clit like that. Oh God, just like that.” Then, she screamed, “I’m going to come,” as Brian began to finger her in rhythm with the movement of his tongue across her clit. Then Daphne came with a shudder so hard that she actually saw kaleidoscopic colors dancing behind her eyelids. “Oh my fucking god!” she shouted. It surprised her that Brian kept licking her until the shudders ceased, only then lifting his head from her dripping cunt. “Um,” she said, words failing her. Brian hadn’t exaggerated the skill of his tongue, she mused, still lethargic from the headiness of her orgasm. She’d never experienced something like that. Ever.

Justin continued licking Brian until Brian felt his hole expand and began to spray cum, soaking the sheets. Catching some in his hand, Brian said, “Oh god, keep doing that. Justin, fuck me with your tongue,” he moaned as Justin continued to probe his asshole with his tongue. When the shudders ceased, he felt Justin’s tongue leave his ass, blazing a trail down his perineum to lap at his ball sac. “Oh, holy fuck,” he said, shuddering as the last spasm hit him. Closing his eyes, he let the spasm shudder its way through his body leaving him feeling somewhat rubbery.

He looked at Daphne as Justin stepped out from behind him, tongue having gotten a work out. Brian met her eyes and Curtis’s then held out his hand. “Consider this my hostess gift,” he quipped. 

“Untie me,” she muttered. “Unfuckingtie me.”

“Down girl,” Brian teased. “There’s enough of me to go around.” But he knew too well what she meant. It was why he hated being tied down, in more ways than one. That sense of control and heightened urgency could be arousing but it could also be terrifying being at someone else’s mercy.

Curtis untied her hands and she sat up as Brian extended his hand. Daphne looked at her best friend, asking permission, and Justin shook his head slightly letting her know it was okay. “This is for you,” he said. “Both of you,” he said, indicating Curtis was to partake.

“So you’re willing to share?” Curtis asked.

“On a limited basis, yeah,” Justin answered, glancing at him. Then he looked at Daphne whose chest was cum-streaked along with strands of jizz on her lips and chin.

It was Daphne who bent her head to gently lap the semen out of Brian’s cupped palm as Curtis bent his head. Both tongues darted out to cleanse Brian’s hand of his milky white seed. Tongues crossed as they both bent to their task, dueling for the most time and essence of Brian. When Daphne looked up again, Justin said, “Daph, why don’t you lick him clean? But first I think I want to lick you clean.”

Justin moved from behind Daphne and Brian moved aside, looking at Curtis. By mute agreement, Brian and Curtis watched as Justin bent over his best friend, leisurely licking her clean as she writhed gently under the gentle assault of Justin’s tongue. Licking her lips, Justin watched as her chocolate brown eyes darkened. When Justin finally raised his head, his eyes met Curtis’s. “Not bad,” he said, and Brian smirked at him. 

He was more than into this game, Curtis thought. Brian tasted great, he acknowledged. Much better than my own spunk, he thought. Then Brian lay down on his back, cock still glistening with his spilled seed. Daphne bent her head, attentively beginning to lick him clean, tongue flickering over his dripping cock head. Curtis settled down to eagerly lap the spunk from his spent balls. When Brian was clean, they all looked at Justin.

“What next, dirty boy?” Brian asked, directing the question at Justin, whose lips still glistened with the remainder of Curtis’s load that he’d licked off Daphne.

Surprisingly it was Curtis who answered. “I want you to fuck me. I want you to show me what it is to take a cock up my tight, little virgin ass. And I want Justin to jack off all over me. But first I want you to kiss me.” Again, he thought. Damn, the man knew how to kiss.

“Daph?” Brian said, eyeing Curtis with a smug little grin. See, I knew he’d get into this. Cocky little shit. Shouldn’t play with the big boys, he thought. 

She nodded her assent. Brian slid off the bed, standing while he drew Curtis near to him, so that their cocks rested against one another. Initiating a deep kiss, Brian felt Curtis’s tongue begin an exploratory mission within the regions of his mouth. He knew they were sharing the taste of Daphne as their tongues met and mated. He couldn’t see Justin’s expression but wondered how Justin was handling all this. After all, this couldn’t exactly be what he’d intended, but then Brian was lost in Curtis’ very deft assault. Breaking the kiss, Brian reappraised him, looking at Daphne who smiled smugly.

“Show him what it’s like to learn the pleasures of having a dick up his ass.” She glanced at her boyfriend who looked dazed. “Have you ever even played with your hole before?”

He shook his head. “No,” he admitted. “But I’ve thought about it.”

“So you’ve never fucked yourself with your fingers?” she queried.

He shook his head.

Brian and Justin grinned at each other. Oh this was fun, they both thought. “I’ll watch,” she said, content for the moment to let the boys have their fun.

“I always knew you had a voyeuristic side,” Brian said.

Smiling at him, she said, “I’ve got a video camera around here somewhere. Want to tape?”

“Oh, honey,” he said, “you truly are a woman after my own heart. But no, we’ll leave that for the main attraction on Friday.”

“You know, Bri,” she purred, “Cynthia’s missing out on all the pre-game fun.”

“Oh trust me she’ll get her share. Besides, it’ll be interesting to watch you two together.”

Daphne stared at him. She’d heard about Brian’s fiercely loyal assistant. She looked at Curtis who said, echoing the words of earlier that afternoon, “Brian and Justin said safe space. Who am I to contradict that?” For the moment the fact that he was her boyfriend was forgotten in favor of a sexual experience that she’d only dreamed about.

They headed to the bathroom, Daphne following the boys, understanding that for the moment her role was as a witness more than as a participant. She was content in that. For the moment. Daphne could still feel Brian’s mouth on her, her body’s reaction to the assault of his tongue as he licked her through her own orgasm. God, she thought, Justin has that all the time. No wonder he said that he saw the face of God after they had sex the first time. She recalled how she’d thought that surely he was exaggerating. Now she had firsthand knowledge. That made her smile. Who’d have thought that I would know what it is to be with Brian?

Once in the bathroom, Justin glanced at his lover. Brian seemed satiated, he mused. And he’d dug into cunnilingus with the same gusto he used when eating me out, Justin thought. But at the base of things, it was a cock that made Brian hot. The thought of driving his stiff prick up a tight ass that made him horny. Still Justin felt a sense of uneasiness. Christ, he thought, I just ate him out. I ate Curtis’s load off Daphne and I’m still doubting this. Taylor, you’re thinking too much, he thought.

Glancing at his blond, Brian stopped a moment. Meeting Justin’s eyes, he knew that something was up and it wasn’t either of their dicks. “We’ll be right back,” Brian said, glancing at Justin.  
Once in the living room, Brian and Justin sat down on the couch. Speaking quietly, he said, “Okay, Sunshine, what’s up?” Or not as the case may be, he mentally amended.

“I’m fine,” Justin muttered. 

“No, you’re not,” Brian rejoined. “Something’s got you bothered. Out with it or we’ll stop now. I didn’t mean to push you into something you really weren’t ready for. I know it had to be weird for you seeing me go down on your best friend.”

“No, it’s not that,” Justin protested. “I’d have been more upset if I’d walked in on you and Michael. Okay it was a little strange seeing you actually get into it with the same enthusiasm you have when you’re sucking my dick. Knowing you were licking her through orgasm.”

“And, Sunshine, I still prefer cock to pussy. I still prefer tasting spunk. If it’s not that, then what is bothering you?”

“I guess I just thought we’d be the main attraction, Bri. And I know it’s cock you live for.” Looking down at his hands, Justin suppressed a sigh. God, this was hard, he thought. Well, actually not. 

“So do you want to show them how it’s done?” Brian asked, shifting on the sofa so he could see the blond. He knew something else was bothering him. “Justin, what is it? You got really quiet when you saw me tie Daphne up.”

At that, Justin looked up at him, seeing the worry in the hazel eyes. “If I tell you something now, you’ve got to promise you won’t flip the fuck out. That you’ll hear me out before reacting.”

Okay, Brian thought, this is so not good. Please tell me that this is not one of my worse ideas. But, on some level, he knew that this was not anything like him hiring the hustler for Justin’s birthday. This was deeper. “Out with it,” he said, resigned to the fact that it was a virtual certainty that he wasn’t going to like what was going to follow.

Justin sighed audibly now. “You know when I was working as a go-go boy at Babylon.”

Brian nodded. It had fucking pissed him off seeing Justin up there. But he let the blond continue without interrupting him. “The night I went to that party at Sapperstein’s, he gave me some coke or something that really fucked with my head. I was out of it, not really hallucinating but not really in my head.”

Brian felt something like fury begin to raise its head in the pit of his belly. That fucking asshole, he thought, but remained silent, sensing Justin needed to get through this. “The boys Sap invited were there as center-pieces. As objects of titillation without personality. Basically whores. Anyway, Sap passed me off to this other guy and told him something about how I was worth the money.”

Brian’s eyes went cold at that. That fucking piece of shit, he fumed. Motherfucker. “What happened?” he said, voice cold.

Justin looked at him, saw the absolute cold fury in Brian, and the tight control he was exerting to keep himself in check. “They tried to put me in the sling. It wasn’t something I wanted to do and I kneed Sap in the balls. I left but I don’t really remember how I got back to the loft. When I got back to the loft you weren’t there.”

Brian knew that; he’d spent the night in a jail cell because Michael had smarted off to a cop because he was pissed at Debbie for dating a cop. “Justin, did he hurt you?”

“No,” Justin said, meeting Brian’s eyes. “No, Brian. I swear he didn’t hurt me. I got out of there.”

“Had you just gotten home when I got home?” Brian asked, remembering how he’d gone straight to the fridge for a beer. He also remembered that being the first time he’d allowed Justin to top him.

Justin nodded silently. Brian stared at him. “That son of a bitch,” he said quietly. “So when you told me that sometimes a man needs to ask for help you meant it. But it wasn’t just about taking the money. You needed my help on more levels than just financial.” Christ, you needed me and I was too fucking blind to see it. Just grateful that you’d finally taken my money without a fight. That should have clued me in that something lay deeper, he thought.

Again Justin nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“Because I knew you’d go after Sap. Take Ben with you or something and beat the shit out of him.”

Probably, Brian thought. That’s probably exactly what I would have done. “Is that why you wanted to make love to me?” He carefully avoided using the word “fuck” because in all important ways that wasn’t what Justin had done to him. It had been slow and gentle at first then increased with gradual need. “Did you need some sort of control?”

Justin nodded as he began to tremble. “Oh fuck, Justin. Why the fuck didn’t you tell me? I’d spent the night in a jail cell. I was so fucking tired and I couldn’t understand why it was so important to you.”

Justin took a moment before he spoke. “Brian, I needed to feel close to you. When I got home and you weren’t there, I was terrified. But I knew that being independent also meant knowing when to ask for help. I needed to assert some control over my own destiny. It’s why I didn’t want to take the money from you. I felt like I was on auto-pilot.”

“Baby,” Brian began, startled at his word choice and then stumbled on, “you should have told me. We could have worked through it together.”

Justin looked at him. “We were growing apart, Brian. Even then. I---”

“You needed me,” Brian finished. “You needed me and I failed you on so many occasions. Like Vermont. And the hustler.”

Anguished, Justin could only nod. “And today seeing Daphne tied up?”

“Reminded me of how Sap wanted to put me in that sling,” Justin said.

“So was it different when we used handcuffs?” Brian asked. I can’t believe I missed this, he thought, angry with himself. How the hell did I miss this?

Justin nodded. “It’s different with you because I know you won’t hurt me.” At least not deliberately.

Brian looked down at his hands and then back at Justin. “Do you want to go home?” 

Thinking of Daphne and Curtis standing in the bathroom, Justin only shook his head. “I want you to make me forget about that sling. I want you to replace that memory with one of you above me. Tie me to the headboard and fuck me.”

“No,” Brian said, the one word short. “No fucking way.”

“Brian.”

“I won’t do it, Justin. Not until you’re ready. And certainly not with an audience. If you fall apart, I don’t want it to be in public.” I want it to just be the two of us. With me to help you through this. 

“We’re not in public,” Justin protested. “And it’s Daphne.”

“Justin,” Brian said, exasperated. “It’s also Curtis. If it was just Daphne, I might consider it.”

Staring at him, Justin realized that Brian truly didn’t want to expose him to that. “Is this about me? Or you?”

Angry now, Brian spat out, “It’s about you, you fucking twat.” But he wasn’t angry with Justin, not really.

“Brian, it’s what I want. Please do this for me,” Justin realized he was pleading now.

Brian’s face was implacable. Bad fucking idea Kinney, he thought. But Justin was openly pleading now. Resigned to the fact that it was important to Justin, he said, “You remember your safe word, right? And if you say stop at any time I will. No questions asked.”

“Uh huh,” Justin said, nodding. 

Brian stood, extended his hand to Justin, pulling him up so that their bodies were close. Pulling him closer, Brian kissed him softly. As their lips met, Brian’s tongue gently parted his lips finding his own. This time the assault was gentle. When the kiss broke, Brian whispered, “We can go now. No harm. No foul.”

“No,” Justin said, equally softly. “Let’s finish this thing. Besides, I want to show Curtis how it’s done. Watching him fuck with you is not as fun as watching you fuck with him. And I want to see him take you.”

At that Brian grinned. That’s my blond, he thought, though he was still worried that this was asking too much. “I want to see Curtis’s reaction when he sees you ride me, Sunshine.”

He was still not entirely happy with the idea of this but he led Justin into the bathroom. Two sets of eyes met theirs as they rejoined Daphne and Curtis. “Everything okay?” Daphne asked.

“Yeah,” Brian said. “Where were we?”

Sensing something was up because the tempo of the mood had changed, Daphne studied him carefully. There was something up with Brian. And Justin, she thought, glancing at her best friend. Apparently Curtis sensed the shift in mood as well because he looked at Brian. “Hey, we don’t have to do this. We can take a break.”

Strangely enough it was Brian who said, “No. You want to know what it’s like to be fucked by a man. Far be it for me to deny you that opportunity. The pleasure derived from feeling a cock hit your prostate on every stroke, unloading your balls knowing that another man is balls deep inside you. Drinking someone else’s seed. Can you take that?”

Justin looked at his lover. Oh fuck, he thought. “Brian,” he said, quietly. He could sense the temper and rage boiling underneath the surface. If anyone was going to take on Brian in this mood it would be him. It wouldn’t be fair to either Curtis or Daphne to see Brian this out of control. Experience him in this frame of mind.

But Curtis nodded even as Brian turned to respond.

“I’m fine, Sunshine,” Brian ground out, his eyes blazing.

“No, you’re not,” Justin said, worried now that he’d pushed Brian over the edge. That the events of the day and his revelation were finally hitting home with his lover.

“Um, maybe we should stop,” Daphne said, glancing at Curtis. She could sense the dangerous undercurrent in the room. She’d never seen Brian like this and it rather scared the shit out of her. “Take a breather.”

Brian looked at her, saw the fear floating in her brown eyes, and seemed to ground himself a bit. “Daph, you got any E or coke?”

She looked at Curtis. “No, I think we’ve got a stash of pot around here.”

“That’ll do,” Brian said, meeting her eyes with his own. Even he sensed the mood shift and knew it was due to him. It occurred to him that Daphne had never seen him like this. So near to falling out of control. “Why don’t we adjourn to the living room and reevaluate the rules?”

Curtis looked at Justin. “Um,” he began but stopped at a look from Brian. Okay then, he thought. That’s how it’s gonna be. Brian was so much more dangerous than Justin, Curtis realized. Dangerous on a lot of levels other than just his careless sexuality. There were things beneath the surface that were better left untapped.

Shrugging, Justin followed the other three out into the living room while Daphne returned to her room, returning with a bag of weed. It wasn’t as fine a quality as that which Brian bought but it would serve their purposes for now. “We smoking joints or do you have a bong?” he asked her.

“Which do you prefer?” It occurred to her that for the moment they were driving this little experiment. She wasn’t sure that she was the one behind the wheel.

“Joints,” Brian said. He was trying his level best to even out his fury at the situation Justin had been put in and his subsequent reaction. 

Once they were all carefully situated and the joint had been rolled, it was Curtis who tentatively asked, “Is everything okay?”

“Just peachy,” Brian droned sarcastically as Justin moved closer to him. As Brian shot gunned him, Curtis and Daphne watched the two lovers.

As Justin passed the joint to Daphne, Brian lazily drawled, “So Daph what other fantasies do you have?”

“Um,” she started, as she took a hit, “I want to be shaved.”

Brian smiled; he could feel the weed begin to hit his system. “That can be arranged.” Turning to Curtis he said, “You?”

“This is your show,” he said, recognizing that he’d been playing with fire earlier when he’d taunted Brian.

“Come on, you have to have some fantasy. What do you lie in bed thinking about late at night while you stroke your cock?”

Curtis hesitated. Fuck, he thought. “I want to suck your dick. I want to drink some guy’s come.”

“Mine in particular or will just any cock do?” Brian asked, as the joint made its way back to him.

“Yours,” Curtis said, boldly meeting Brian’s eyes. “But I want to see you and Justin together. See how you fuck him.”

“That can definitely be arranged,” Brian said, passing it to Justin. “And you, dirty boy? Anything you want to see or do?”

Justin started. He was beginning to really hate the fact that he’d chosen now to reveal the details of the party at Sap to Brian. Bad, really fucking bad, timing, he thought. “I want to be tied up while you fuck me.”

Brian smiled in a sinister fashion that made Daphne shiver. What the fuck is going on, she wondered. “You want me to fuck you at will?”

“Um yes,” he said hesitantly. “Then I want to see you fuck Daphne’s ass.”

“Here I thought that was something you wanted to do yourself, Sunshine.”

“I do,” Justin said, forgetting for the moment that he and Brian weren’t alone.

“Um,” Daphne began as two sets of eyes landed on her. “I uh,” she started again. Then as Brian’s eyes boldly rested on her she finished it. “I want Brian to eat my ass. But I really want to see Brian fuck Curtis then see Justin suck Curtis off.”

“Do you?” Brian asked. “Well then, let’s get started. You know, Daph, you really have a very nice pussy. Are you sure you don’t want just a simple strip of hair? Do you it want it completely bald?”

She hesitated. If Brian had worried about her freaking out before it was nothing compared to how she was feeling now. But she met his eyes and then did something that surprised everyone. “You apparently want to punish someone, Brian. You’re pissed off about something Justin told you. So why don’t you show us exactly how it is.”

“Daph,” Justin breathed quietly but she sent him a look. 

She had no intention of backing down now. She’d seen him naked, tasted his jizz and he’d eaten her out. No, she wasn’t afraid of Brian. “You’re angry and hurt. So let’s finish this thing.”

“Baby girl, you don’t know who you’re fucking with,” Brian ground out.

“And I like it rough, your royal horniness,” she retorted. “I’m not afraid of you.”

Fuck, Justin thought. And Curtis stared at his girlfriend and Brian. “Or are you not willing to take what’s so willingly offered?”

Brian growled. That was truly the only word for it. He growled. And everyone knew that he was growing aroused; they could see his cock hardening and Daphne was aware of it. “Daphne,” Brian began quietly. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I know that,” she said, taking a step towards him, resting a hand on his chest. “Let me make you feel better. Let me take the pain away.”

Justin stared at her. She was playing a deadly game and seemed to be winning; Brian was slowly calming down. When did she learn how to tame the lion? He wondered. He met Curtis’ eyes and saw the shock in the other’s eyes. This clearly was something he hadn’t been expecting.

Brian glanced at his boyfriend. Justin simply shrugged but his eyes said, if you hurt her because you’re pissed at me, I won’t forgive you. Fighting the urge to cause pain, Brian slowly nodded. He didn’t want to hurt anymore. And looking into Daphne’s eyes, he knew that she’d known all along what she was doing to him. Talking him down off the cliff. He took her hand and brought it to his dick. “You did that to me,” he said. “You took me to that point. Not Justin. Not Curtis. You. It’s been a long time since a woman did that to me,” he said quietly. A very long time.

“I know. So let’s get on with the show, Brian.” She leaned in to gently kiss his lips and breathed quietly, “I know you wouldn’t have hurt me.”

“Not for the world, baby girl. Not for the world,” he whispered. It dawned on him that he was as protective of her as he was of Justin. Strange. Through this they now had a bond and it was somehow stronger. She’d known how to take him down, he mused, wondering at that. Wondered how it was that she understood him so well; that she’d known what he needed. Then it dawned on him, Daphne remembered the prom and how he had stood there, emotions naked to the world. Showing just how much he loved Justin. She remembered the aftermath. She knew how he felt better than anyone. She knew just how he felt about Justin and how he’d been devastated when Justin had chosen the fiddler over him.

He glanced at his boyfriend, saw the underlying fear and trepidation in Justin’s eyes. “Okay,” he said. “I’m okay.”

Then, Justin said, “You know, Brian, it’s been a long time since you’ve been tied up. I think Daph has a velvet cat o’nine tails. Do you want to punish or do you want to be punished?”

Brian hesitated; he’d never really been into the whole receiving pain thing. Nor did he much like giving it unless it was fairly tame like spanking Justin. But he met his lover’s eyes. And, he mused, a velvet cat is nothing like the one my dad used on me. It might actually be okay. “I prefer handcuffs,” he said. “And a nightstick up my ass while someone plays bad cock.” Justin knew that. Justin fucking knew that.

“So are you willing to let the three of us play?” Justin asked, walking closer to his lover.

Thinking a moment, Brian nodded. “Yeah, I’m willing to let the three of you play.” He glanced at Daphne and saw her nod. Then his eyes met Curtis’s and silent understanding passed between them. He’d known that if he’d been rough with Curtis that it would have been tantamount to rape and that wasn’t something Brian would ever do. He knew how it felt to have control taken utterly away from you and he wouldn’t do that to a neophyte.

Daphne kissed him as Justin walked around to his back, arms casually looping around his waist to fondle his cock and balls. “Um,” he moaned. “That feels good.”

“I thought you’d like that,” Justin said, nipping his shoulder gently, tongue soothing the bite. 

Daphne stopped and said, “Boys, we always seem to move past the whole initiation thing. Let’s go to the bathroom.”


	18. Finding a Way Back

I've made some revisions to Reunion and Reunion 2. This chapter replaces Untold Delights - I decided that the chapter got away from me and looking at the reviews I found that I had definitely veered off course. This one is short but I hope it somewhat fixes things. Thanks!

* * *

Justin followed them into the bathroom and then looked at Brian. “Um,” he began, feeling three sets of eyes rest on him.

“What, Sunshine?”

Justin met Brian’s eyes and then said quietly. “I can’t do this. It’s not right.”

Beginning to understand how bad of an idea this had been, Brian simply nodded. Turning to Daphne, he said, “We’re going to go.” 

Stunned but not entirely surprised because the whole thing had been so surreal, she simply nodded. Curtis glanced at Brian and Justin and then nodded. Interesting while it lasted, he thought.

Returning to the bedroom, they picked up their discarded clothes and Brian said, “Why don’t you show me your room, then we’ll get out of here?”

“You’re not pissed?”

“No, I’m not pissed. In fat, this was a bad fucking idea. I don’t know what I was thinking. But it’s not a turn-on for either of us.”

“Daphne was into it,” Justin reminded him.

“Yeah, I know. And I feel a bit bad about how this whole thing turned out. But this floor show idea isn’t who we are. Besides I should have realized just how exploitative this whole thing would be. For both of us,” he said, shuddering.

Justin led Brian into his bedroom and swept clothes and books from the top of his bed. Brian took a deep breath and started laughing. “You know this is like something out of a horror movie.”

“Well not all of us can afford to buy minimalist furniture. Some of us actually have to pay reasonable prices. And the mess is who I am.”

“Hey, I was teasing. It just brings back memories of how the loft used to look.” When you were there on a full-time basis, he thought. “You done any sketches recently?” Brian asked, trying to determine the cleanest place to sit. 

“Um, yeah.” Justin reluctantly handed Brian a sketch pad, watching the older man flip through the pages.

“These are good, Justin. Really good.”

“You think so?”

“Would I compliment you if I thought they were for shit?”

“Um no,” Justin admitted. “You’d tell me in your inimitable way that they sucked.”

Brian nodded. “You want to get out of here?”

“Yeah.”

Dressing hurriedly, they walked out into the living room where they found Daphne had closed the door to her own room. Hearing voices coming from within, they decided not to say goodbye. Instead, Justin opted for slamming the door as they left. It was a surefire way of making sure that they knew that they were alone.

“You hungry?” Justin asked, looking at the ad exec as they got in the car.

“Anything but sushi,” Brian said, wrinkling his nose.

“That bad, huh?”

“It reminded me why I like cock, that’s all. I feel kind of bad getting Daphne and Curtis all wound up and then not following through.”

“She’ll get over it.”

“Will you?” Brian asked, looking at him as they sat at an intersection.

“Yeah, I’m over it. I never want to talk about it again. Okay?”

Nodding, Brian said, “So what do you want to do for dinner?”

Justin stared at him. “You really want to go eat or is there something you’d rather do?”

“We could go back to the loft and watch The Maltese Falcon. Make some of that popcorn you kids seem to crave. I don’t really want to go out and face the guys. We’ll have to do that soon enough.”

Me, Brian, and Bogie, Justin thought. Things couldn’t get much better, he thought. “You like old films, Brian.”

“It’s a classic,” Brian corrected him. “It’s film noir. Show some respect. At least it’s not Adam Sandler. Bogie has more talent.”

“Well, Adam Sandler has his good points. Like in 50 First Dates with Drew Barrymore and The Wedding Singer.”

“That’s two movies compared to nearly eighty, Sunshine. But I’ll let you have this one. So are we headed back to the loft?”

“Yeah.” He paused a moment, then asked, “Do you even have popcorn?”

Brian just glanced at him. “Kids.”

“Old man.”

It had been a narrow escape but they’d made it out without sacrificing what made them Brian and Justin.


	19. Finding a Way Back

Author's Note: I've made some revisions to Reunion and Reunion 2.

* * *

In the middle of The Maltese Falcon, they were disturbed by the door. Grown weary of uninvited visitors, Brian groaned and looked down at the drowsy blond, lying on him. “Hey, Justin,” he said, “I need to get that. Unfortunately.”

Nodding, Justin shifted and sat up. Setting the bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table, he stood and went to retrieve a bottle of water for himself while Brian went to the door, muttering darkly under his breath. Justin didn’t have to hear him to know he wasn’t happy.

Sliding the loft door open, he said, “Well, this is a surprise. We didn’t expect you. Ever hear of a funny little thing called a telephone?”

Brian’s tone was not entirely hostile. But he was kind of amused at the kid’s balls. Curious, Justin joined him at the door, mouth agape. “Um, does Daphne know you’re here?”

Curtis shook his head “no”. Starting slowly, he said, “I think I’m gay. Or bi. Oh, fuck. I couldn’t sleep with her after you two left. I couldn’t get it up.”

Funny, Brian thought, you didn’t have a problem when you were looking at us. Interesting. Can I sense ‘em or what?

Torn between amusement and pity, they looked at each other. “I’m not running Kinney’s House for Confused Twinks,” Brian snarled. “Do what Justin did. Go down to Liberty Avenue.”

“Alone?”

“I did,” Justin pointed out.

Curtis looked at him, the unspoken plea clear in his eyes. Looking at him, both remembered their first times. Justin was fully aware he’d gotten lucky, remembering the first man he’d run into. Then he’d met Brian. Lucky me, he thought, aware the Fates had been smiling on him that night.

Fuck, Brian thought. This was a very bad idea, he realized. Pandora’s Box. What was I thinking? Clearly, Kinney, you weren’t, a voice needled him. Sighing he went to his desk and reached for a note pad. Scribbling something on it, he rejoined the two. Handing it to Curtis, he said, “Give this to the guy at the front door. Tell him Kinney sent you. Find the backroom. Watch for a while, see if it’s really what you want.”

“And you two?”

Justin glanced at Brian and then met Curtis’s eyes. “We don’t do friends.”

“So what was that today?” Curtis asked, clearly confused.

“A mistake spurred on by a wager. A reminder that we both like men,” Brian said. “Don’t go down there expecting love or a relationship. It’s all about fucking a nice ass or getting your dick sucked.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t,” Brian said, aware his tone was short.

Understanding dawned, and Curtis nodded. “Justin.”

“Be careful. Brian’s right. Don’t go down there expecting anything more than to get fucked or your dick sucked.”

“You make it sound like I’m entering a new dimension.”

“You are. Pretty much everything you can imagine. But it’s nothing like Christopher Street.”

“Huh?”

Rolling his eyes and wishing he were anywhere else, Brian said, “It’s a famous street in New York.” He reached into his pocket and handed him a handful of condoms. “Here.”

“You guys are monogamous right?”

Clearly he had no clue who he was dealing with, Justin thought, but didn't say as much. Snorting, Justin said, “Don’t fuck raw. Ever.”

“But---” Curtis began.

“Don’t be so fucking naïve. Monogamy isn’t a guarantee or even a reality. Just go down there and see if that’s what really gets your rocks off.”

Nodding and sensing they wanted him to go, Curtis turned to leave. “You know that you really fucked with Daph’s head today.”

“Like I said, it was a bad idea. Not what we intended.”

“But you are into crowd scenes?” I sound like a bad entry into a Penthouse Letter, Curtis thought.

“On occasion. But it’s by invitation only,” Brian said. “Don’t mean to be rude. But it’s time for you to go. Just test the waters. And for God’s sake, don’t do anything you aren’t ready to do. Neophytes are eaten alive. But if you think you are a top, then fucking Todd is a good start. Everyone in the backroom knows who Todd is. He’s a good guy and he’s a good bottom.”

“Okay.” He walked to the door and slid it open, not looking back.

Sliding the door closed, Brian rested his forehead against the cold metal for a minute before turning back to Justin. “Go ahead and say it.”

“Say what?”

“That you told me so. That this was a bad idea.”

“Nope,” Justin said. No sense kicking him when he was already down, he figured. “Let’s finish the movie.”

“You up for anything tonight?” Brian asked. “Or did you just want to sleep?”

“Sleep,” Justin admitted honestly. “I’ve got an early day tomorrow and a very demanding boss to please.” No sense mentioning the adventure of the afternoon had pretty much eliminated any desire for further sexual Olympics.

Brian grinned at the depiction of him as a "demanding" boss. “You want a ride in?”

Shaking his head reluctantly, Justin said, “I think it’s better if I arrive before you. It would be bad to arouse suspicions.”

Brian raised an eyebrow. “You really would have quit, wouldn’t you?”

Stepping towards him, Justin led him to the sofa. He pushed Brian down and settled himself between his legs before answering. “Yeah, I don’t want to fuck you out of a job. Mom was right about that.” He had no idea how those words would come back to haunt them both.

“Wouldn’t be the first to try,” Brian said, remembering Kip.

Justin knew his lover well enough to realize who Brian was thinking about and so he simply nestled into him. “I’m not Kip, Bri. I’m not trying to sleep my way to the top.”

“No,” Brian agreed. “You started at the top.”

“You know narcissism is a really unattractive quality.” But Justin knew that Brian’s cockiness concealed a deep-seated insecurity.

Not answering, Brian simply pressed the play button. His arms tightened around Justin as they settled in to finish the movie. He couldn’t help thinking about Curtis and hoping that they hadn’t created a golem. The kid had no idea what he was getting into. While Brian didn’t relish acting out a role in Pygmalion, he didn’t intend to throw him to the lions. Justin had similar thoughts tempered by the realization that he had indeed fucked with Daphne’s head. 

When the movie finally ended, Justin turned to look at Brian. The older man had fallen asleep with his mouth slightly open. Easing out of his arms so as not to disturb him, Justin walked upstairs to the bedroom, returning with a blanket. He tucked it around Brian, as Brian shifted in his sleep, unconsciously pulling it closer to him. Kissing him on the forehead, Justin said, “I love you, Brian.” Turning off the television, he proceeded to turn off the lights and arm the alarm system. 

Wandering into the bathroom, he brushed his teeth, washed his face with the expensive stuff Brian insisted on buying, and moisturized his face. He realized that he’d settled into an unconscious routine. But he wasn’t about to start moving things in until he’d been given the green light. No sense looking a gift horse in the mouth or Brian, for that matter. Stripping down, Justin slid into bed, aware that it felt weird sleeping alone in Brian’s bed. But he knew that it was easier to let Brian sleep where he was than awaken him. For an insomniac, it wasn’t cool or kind to disturb one’s sleep. Besides he knew Brian was comfortable where he was. So flopping onto his stomach, Justin slid into sleep.

It was nearly 3 o’clock when Brian startled awake, pulled from sleep by a nightmare or dream. The fucking witching hour, he thought grumpily as his eyes focused on the clock on the DVD player. Looking down at himself, he realized that he’d been covered up. Smiling, Brian knew that Justin had done that for him. He wasn’t unaware that Justin hadn’t said he loved him. But considering how he reacted when the teen did say it, he couldn’t entirely blame him for the oversight. It bothered him how much he found he needed the words. 

Tossing the blanket aside, Brian walked into the bathroom to pee. Then he began his own nocturnal routine, brushing his teeth, washing his face, and moisturizing his skin with the French anti-aging cream that Justin sometimes teased him about. But as it was out on the counter and the cap slightly askew, Brian knew that he’d used it himself. Huh? Why the hell does he need this? It’s not like he’s going to get lines for a few more years. But better to start young, he thought. He finished his routine and undressing then slipped into bed beside Justin, knowing that the teen had somehow sensed his presence. Reaching for him in his sleep, Brian thought, uncomfortable with how much he liked that feeling. So he rolled onto his side, letting the teen hold him like he might hold a teddy bear, as he fell asleep, comforted by the thought that Justin was back.


	20. Finding a Way Back

On Monday, Cynthia was surprised and relieved to see her boss in a fairly good mood; or what passed for good in the world of Brian Kinney. Still, it was a good morning when he walked into the office and didn’t growl or bark at her. This morning, he walked past her desk without barking at her. Judging from his demeanor, she needn’t worry about a pink slip in her future. She’d fretted all weekend about that, unable to enjoy the episode of Sex and the City she looked forward to every weekend.

Her euphoria lasted until around eleven when Brian finally buzzed her. She was unable to prevent the wariness from creeping into her voice as she responded to his brusque summons. Pausing in the door to his office, she found she couldn’t look him directly in the eye. From behind his desk, Brian was fully aware of his assistant’s discomfort. Finally looking up from the proof sheet which, in his considered opinion, was for shit, he said, “Close the door.”

Hastily complying, Cynthia thought for a fleeting moment about just fleeing through it. Oh, shit, she thought, here it comes. My dreams of going to Vegas for a girls’ weekend are out. Deciding not to forestall the inevitable, she said, “Shall I clear out my desk?”

Ah, yes, he thought, power is fucking good. Not as good as an orgasm but nearly as seductive. The look on his assistant’s face was priceless. “Don’t know. Should you?”

Asshole. “Brian----” she began.

“Relax, Cynthia. I’m not firing you.” He paused a moment, then said, “That’s not to say I appreciate you fucking around in my personal life. There’s a reason it’s called a personal life. I don’t ask you about yours.”

No, she thought, you don’t. Though there are times when I see the humanity underneath your façade of cool arrogance. “I’m sorry,” she found herself apologizing.

Brian arched a brow. “Sit down.”

She stared at him; the way a cornered field mouse studied a cat, knowing that you’re about to be someone else’s next meal. “Um.”

Deciding to put her out of her misery and save himself the aggravation, he said, nearly choking on the words, “Thank you.”

Huh? Did Brian Kinney just thank me? But she knew better than to question it. There were reasons she’d survived for five years as his assistant. Questioning his moods was not one of the reasons. “Uh, you’re welcome.”

“Know how you can repay me?’

Of course. There were also costs in Brian’s world. Slowly she shook her head. Brian’s lips curved slightly as he looked at the slight blonde. “Get me a copy of Vance’s schedule for the next couple of weeks. I want to know when he’s out of the office.”

“You’re aware that Felicia hates my guts. That she’s a bitch. I think she eats ground glass for breakfast.”

“Cynthia,” Brian said, slowly. “You eat women like Felicia for breakfast. Deal with it. I don’t care if you have to pull the stick out of her ass yourself. Just get me a copy of the fucking schedule.”

He was aware of the irony of his words. “Planning a coup?”

At that he smiled. “Something like that.”

“Little afternoon delight?” she teased.

“Haven’t I always said that orgasms are the key to making me happy?”

No, she thought, but it was clear that he’d been well and truly fucked over the weekend. Lucky him, she thought somewhat bitterly. “Yeah, Boss. Is that why you fucked the Xerox repair guy over the copy machine last week? And the Fed Ex guy the week before?”

“No, that was for fun. Besides, he needed to be oiled up.”

Only Brian Kinney, she thought, in wonder. But then Brian said, “Dismissed.”

Cynthia turned on her heel to leave, then turned back, hesitating a moment before speaking. “Brian.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad everything worked out. You’re lucky.” And you seem happy, she thought, realizing it had been a long time since she’d seen her boss so, well, content.

Brian smirked at her even though he privately agreed with her. So he simply nodded, not bothering with an answer. After Cynthia left, closing the door behind her, he reached for his cell phone. Dialing a number, he waited for the person to answer.

“Doctor’s office.”

He hesitated a moment, then said, “Miranda Jameson, please.”

“May I tell her who is calling?”

Normally, he appreciated crisp efficiency and cool professionalism, but now it simply irritated him. “Brian Kinney.”

“One moment, please.”

As he waited for Miranda to answer, he pulled his laptop towards him and pulled up his private e-mail account. Clicking on the icon for new text message, he typed:

J, 

Loft tomorrow night. Shower first.

B

Clicking send, he sent it to the realm of cyberspace. As he waited, his impatience began to grow. Finally, he heard Miranda’s voice, with the faint lilt of the Irish mingled with Bostonian aristocracy.

“Brian Aidan Patrick Kinney. What do you need?”

He hesitated. “Hey, Doc. I need an appointment.”

“Why don’t I just meet you at Pappagano’s?”

He couldn’t help smiling. “Because I need your professional advice. Not a dinner with an old friend.”

“So you don’t need me as a friend?” she asked, leaning back in her chair, studying her French-tipped nails.

Brian nearly sighed with frustration. What is it with women? “Well, that too. But I really need to see you in a professional capacity.”

“You want an early afternoon appointment or a late afternoon appointment?” She knew better than to ask him if he wanted a morning appointment. Brian didn’t do morning appointments unless it was with a trick.

Brian looked at his schedule and said, “Late afternoon.”

“You okay, Brian?” she asked, letting a little of her personal concern slip through her crisp voice. “You sound different.”

Ah, that’s what you get from having one of your oldest friends as a shrink, he thought. “I’m fine. It was a long weekend.”

“I thought you fucked ‘em and sent ‘em home without a shower. In and out. No repeat customers.”

At that, he couldn’t help the sigh he emitted. “It wasn’t a trick.”

Her eyebrows rose and she reached for the enameled box on her desk which contained her cigarettes. Lighting one, Miranda said, “Six o’clock.”

“How much?”

“Gratis.”

“No fucking way,” he said. “I’ll pay your hourly rate without insurance.”

“I know you’ve got insurance,” she pointed out.

Of course I do, he thought. “I don’t want this on Vanguard’s tab, Miranda. How much is your hourly rate sans insurance?”

“$250/hr.”

He nearly whistled then realized he’d spent that much on hustlers each time in the past few months. Who was he to bitch about the cost of therapy? “Fine. Six o’clock. You want me to bring dinner?”

“Can’t be accepting gifts from patients,” she pointed out.

“Don’t pull a Melfi on me.” He referred to the therapist on The Sopranos who had made such a big deal out of Tony bringing her coffee for their session.

Miranda laughed, a hearty sound that resonated in his soul. “Chinese, Brian. And don’t forget the crab Rangoon. I love those things.”

“Why on earth would anyone waste good Atlantic crab by mixing it with cream cheese?”

“Not everyone has such epicurean tastes as you, Bri. Besides, I’m not the one who subsists on a steady diet of cum, poppers, and E chased with a bottle of Beam. With a line of coke as an entree.”

Not wishing to debate the issue, he simply said, “I’ll see you at six. Sesame chicken, right?” 

“Uh huh.”

Around three o’clock, Brian was busy fixing the problems that his art department had created. With the exception of Justin, it was a nearly talent-less bunch. So when his intercom buzzed, he nearly snarled, “What?”

Then his expression and voice softened as he heard Justin’s voice say, “Hey. I got your message. You busy tonight?”

For an instant, Brian thought about saying no and asking him to come over. But then he realized that it was better to ease into things than to jump without looking down to see if there was water to cushion the impact of a fall. Besides it wouldn’t do to seem too needy. “Just hanging out. Come over if you want. But make it around ten o’clock.”

“Have a trick coming over?”

Brian didn’t but he also didn’t want to appear too eager. And he didn’t feel it was time to tell Justin about Miranda yet. Not the time to spring his oldest female friend on his newly rekindled relationship with Justin. So he said, “No. I’m just kind of tired.”

“You going to Woody’s after work?”

“Nope. I’ve got some errands to run.”

Sensing Brian’s reluctance, Justin didn’t push any further. “Give me a call at Daph’s if you want to get together.”

“ ‘kay.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Justin said, wondering at the reluctance in Brian’s voice. He couldn’t help wondering if he’d done something.

Brian was aware that he hadn’t handled that in the best possible way but didn’t have time to think much about it when he heard the knock on his office door. Half hoping it was a certain blond, he barked, for form’s sake, “What?”

Cynthia poked her head in and said, “I’ve got Gardner’s schedule. I also managed to figure out when the conference room isn’t going to be used. You know, we should look into soundproofing your office.”

“And hear I thought you liked listening to me. Thought you got a vicarious thrill out of hearing me fuck.”

Cynthia’s face turned bright red and then she stalked out of his office in a manner that could hardly be deemed dignified, slamming the door behind her. Brian laced his hands behind his head and leaned back in his office chair. Best not to rush things with Justin, he thought, since I don’t know if this is going to last. It was simply going to take time for him to be able to trust him again. He hated that he was still questioning things but he didn’t intend to get fucked over again. And the events of yesterday had been beyond the pale, even for him. Especially for them. 

While Brian was trying to determine where he thought things were going with Justin, the blond in question was trying to figure out just why the story boards were so bad.

“Hey, Taylor,” Matt Newmark said.

Justin turned to glance at one of the rising stars within Vanguard. He wasn’t too bad looking but it was clear that he was emulating Brian. And he wasn’t succeeding. “Matt.”

“Kinney working you hard?”

Justin bit his lip. Not in the way you mean. “He’s not so bad.”

“He’s a fucking asshole,” Matt said. “And you know he likes dick.”

So do I. It took a lot for him not to respond and defend Brian. But he simply remained silent. His eyes met Matt’s and Matt said, “He wants those on his desk by four. I heard about what happened in that meeting with Eye-Conic. He ripped you a new one didn’t he? Kinney doesn’t like anyone cutting his balls off like that in front of a client. He thinks the world revolves around him.”

“She asked me a question,” Justin said. “Besides Mr. Kinney is a perfectionist and I should have just done my job.” And Brian’s won three Clio Awards and two Atlas Awards, he thought. What the hell do you have to show for it? And, he thought, the world does revolve around Brian.

“Just be careful. You don’t want to fuck with Kinney.” Newmark walked out of the office leaving Justin staring after him.

He felt his cell phone buzz and looked at the caller ID display which read Daphne. Shit. “Hey, Daph. What’s up?”

He held the phone away from his ear while she proceeded to launch into him about the debacle of yesterday. “Daph, I’m sorry. It was a bad idea.”

He listened a moment. “We sent him to Babylon. Figured it would be a good introduction for him.”

Then, he said, “Daphne, it’s not my fault if he likes dick.”

“Grr,” Daphne said, then he heard the dial tone in his ear.

He jumped when he heard a voice say, “Girl trouble?”

Turning, he saw Brian standing in the door. “Hey,” Justin’s voice softened as he looked at his lover. “Have a long day?”

Meeting Justin’s eyes, Brian said, “Meet me in the supply closet in fifteen minutes.”

Justin’s eyebrows arched towards his hairline and Brian smirked at him. “I’m a very demanding boss, remember?”

Fifteen minutes later, Justin stole down a deserted hallway towards the supply closet. Opening the door slightly, he was stunned when he was pulled inside and up against Brian’s chest. “Hey,” he said, as Brian unzipped him and fondled him through his briefs. Brian turned him around and opened his own slacks, proceeded to lube his dick, and squirted some lube into the tip of the condom before rolling it on himself. 

“You ready,” Brian asked, as he lubed the area around Justin’s hole, feeling it pucker around his finger.

Justin could only nod. “Yeah,” he said, groaning slightly as he felt Brian begin to slide in, his hole opening to allow him greater mobility. 

As Brian began to move, Justin bit down on his lip to keep from moaning. “Fuck me,” he whispered. “Fuck me, Brian.”

Hastening to comply, Brian began to thrust harder, his strokes in and out matching the motion of his hand as he jacked Justin’s dick. When they both came, Brian rested his forehead against Justin’s back for a moment, regaining his breath. He turned Justin around to face him and then kissed him, saying softly, “I’ve wanted to do that all day.”

“Do this often?” Justin couldn’t help asking.

Brian didn’t know quite how to answer that. Then he settled on honesty because Justin knew who he was and how he operated. That the casual fucks didn’t mean a goddamn thing when it was Justin he came home to. And now that Justin was living at Daphne’s, Brian couldn’t help wondering about the rules but would rather endure a visit to the proctologist than ask about them. They hadn’t worked so good the last time around so he was willing to work without them. “I, um, I fucked the Xerox repair guy last week in the copy room.”

“So that was who I heard shouting, Praise Jesus. For a second, I thought Emmett had paid us a visit.”

“No,” Brian said, “Mrs. Schmidt did not come by. Or come at all. He shot all over himself. Not a bad dick, either.”

“Really?” Justin queried. 

“Not as good as yours, Sunshine.” Brian pulled up his slacks and said, “Maybe you should bring a spare set of pants to work. And you might as well forget about wearing briefs.” He said the last with a knowing leer.

He’s assuming a lot, Justin thought. But if he asked me to bend over again right now, I wouldn’t hesitate. “So you want me to go commando? Do you want me to hide under your desk and suck you off while you’re in a teleconference?”

“Not a bad idea,” Brian said. “I know I was a dick earlier. But I’ve got an appointment tonight that I can’t miss.”

“Trick?” Justin asked, confident that his voice didn’t betray any hint of hurt or incredulity. Besides, he didn’t have any room to be jealous. They hadn’t set down any ground rules and, quite frankly, Justin wasn’t in any hurry to lock Brian down.

Brian suppressed a sigh. “No, it’s not a trick. It’s personal.”

Curiosity piqued, Justin did not press him further. If Brian wanted him to know, he’d tell him. So for now he wasn’t going to push. “Okay. We still on for Wednesday night at Babylon?”

Brian nodded. “Yeah. And I’ve got to have lunch with your mom tomorrow.”

“Dreading it?”

Brian sent him a look like he’d recently undergone a lobotomy and had his brain replaced with that of Anna Nicole Smith. “I always have to make sure that my balls are intact after I see your mom. So yeah, I’m dreading it.” He glanced at his watch and said, “Shit. I’ve got to go back. Your very demanding boss is happy with your work performance. ”

Justin grinned. “I’d be happy to return the favor.”

Understanding immediately the implication of Justin’s words, Brian smiled at him. “Maybe.”

At least it wasn’t a direct shot down, Justin thought. He didn’t say no. That, in itself, was progress. He wasn’t in any rush to top Brian. He was content to play the bottom, for the moment, knowing that was what Brian needed from him.

Brian left the supply closet first and a few minutes later Justin returned to the art department. When he saw Matt Newmark at the drafting table, Justin bit back a curse. Fuck, he thought. “So, Taylor, where’d you go?”

“I went to piss, Matt. Was there something you needed?”

Newmark gave him a knowing look that made Justin’s skin crawl even as he met the other man’s eyes. “Yeah, Kinney needs this storyboard. He just walked by on a tear. You know, if I’d didn’t know better I’d think he just got his dick sucked.”

Christ, Justin thought, hoping his face didn’t betray his thoughts or his guilt. Still he hesitated for a moment before looking at Matt. “He do that a lot?”

“What?”

“Fuck at the office?”

“Shit, man.” Matt said, looking at him. “You know he almost got sued for sexual harassment. Some puissant named Kip Thomas sued him after Kinney fucked him because he wouldn’t promote him.”

Justin remained completely still. Of course, he knew about it. He’d been the one to pull Brian’s nuts from the fire that time. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Newmark said. “Seriously Kinney needs this storyboard. He’s a lucky motherfucker. Too bad he’s gay.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because,” Matt said slowly, as if he were talking to the mentally challenged, “Gardner will never make him a senior partner. That’s for real men. And Gardner will never share full partnership with Kinney because he doesn't like or understand fags.”

Justin bit the inside of his cheek, so hard nearly tasted copper. “And what is Mr. Kinney?”

“Well, he sucks dick. So that makes him a pansy. Besides, can you imagine the parties? All the partners and their wives and Kinney with his lover. Yeah, right.”

Justin couldn’t believe this shit. “I’m going to go take him the storyboard, Matt. You want to tag along to make sure it gets to him?”

“No, man. Just wouldn’t want to be in your shoes. I understand he can be a real asshole.”

You have no idea, Justin thought, as he picked up the storyboard and made his way down the hall to Brian’s office. He looked at Cynthia who gave him a shy smile. “He’s not in a bad mood,” she said, quietly. Then she whispered, “You must have made him happy this weekend.”

Justin lit up at that. He smiled brightly at her. “And this afternoon,” she added, with a conspiratorial wink.

He knocked on Brian’s door and saw Brian beckon him in. “Taylor, what’s up?” Then he said, “Oh, close the door behind you.”

Justin did so and met Brian’s inquisitive gaze. “Newmark said you wanted to see this storyboard right away.”

That little fuck, Brian thought. “Yeah, I did. But I told him to bring it to me. What did he do, just pass it off to you?”

Justin nodded. “Mr. Kinney,” he began, seeing the light go on in Brian’s eyes.

God, I love hearing him call me that, Brian thought. “Yes, Taylor.”

“I think Newmark was born to cause trouble. He mentioned the Kip Thomas debacle and the fact that you’re gay.”

Really? “That’s not news.”

“Brian,” Justin began softly, seeing the warning in Brian’s eyes. “Mr. Kinney,” he started over. “He told me to watch out for you.”

“What did you say?”

“That you’re a good boss and that you’re brilliant. That I’m learning a lot from you. He called you an asshole.”

“I’ve gone to a lot of trouble to cultivate that image,” Brian said, pressing his tongue into his cheek. But he was aware that Matthew Newmark could be trouble in more ways than one. “Did he tell you he hit on Cynthia a while back?”

“No,” Justin admitted. “I take it she shot him down?”

“Big time,” Brian said. “We’ll talk about it later. Now, let’s look at that storyboard.”

Thirty minutes later, Brian had informed Justin of the revisions that needed to be done and let him know to watch himself around Newmark. That night when Brian left the office to go to his appointment with Miranda, he made a mental note to check and see just how frequently Newmark talked to Vance. It would be interesting, he thought, to see just how often those two got their heads together.

So Brian left the office at an unusually early time surprising everyone including Cynthia and Justin who were used to him working long hours, deep into the night. He sent Justin an e-mail and then determined to buy Cynthia the bottle of Coco that she’d been talking about. Hell, he figured she deserved it for putting up with him and getting him and Justin back on the right track. It was the least he could do for such a loyal employee.

He pulled the Vette into the parking lot at Miranda’s office, a recently renovated Colonial, and sat there for a full five minutes before pulling himself together enough to go in. This ought to be interesting, he thought. Can’t wait to hear what she has to say about my reconciliation.

Feeling as though he were a Roman slave being tossed to a hungry lion, Brian got out of the car and headed into the building.


	21. Finding a Way Back

I've made some revisions to Reunion and Reunion 2. I have also changed the most recent chapters. Feedback is encouraged. The chapter title is a direct pull from the title of the first episode of the second season of The Sopranos. Thanks!

* * *

Sitting in the reception area, Brian waited for Miranda to come out to escort him back into her office. As he sat there, Brian replayed the events of the weekend in his head. Saturday had been fanfuckintastic, spending time with both of his boys. And Sunday had been kind of surreal. Well, really surreal. He couldn’t believe that he’d all but fucked Daphne. And he hadn’t done that in five years. So he knew that it would’ve been a big mistake to go through with the floor show for all of them.

Brian chewed on his thumb while he waited, finally getting up to pace the small reception room. There were a few well-thumbed copies of Psychology Today along with Ms. and Sage Woman. But she also had a few copies of National Geographic and People. But nothing he really wanted to read. Why is it that doctors always get such boring magazines for their reception area?

Before he had time to debate the question further, Brian heard Miranda’s voice from behind him. Her voice was reminiscent of Marilyn Monroe though she looked more like Drea de Matteo. Her black Donna Karan suit fit her well and Brian knew she was as much of a label queen as he. “Brian,” she said, and he turned to face her.

Reading the expression on his face, she beckoned him back. Sitting behind her desk, Miranda reached to open the window and opened the enameled box. She waited as Brian took a cigarette and then watched as he lighted one. “So you want to tell me what’s going on?”

Brian met her emerald green eyes, reminded as always of a cat. A sleek, beautiful cat who could rip your throat out with her claws. “I got back together with Justin.” See, he thought, I didn’t beat around the bush.

Well, she thought, that’s certainly unexpected. “Want to tell me how that happened?”

Brian took a pull off his cigarette and stared down at his hands, feeling uncomfortable. “Where do you want me to start?”

“Well, last time we talked you saw him fucking some other guy in the backroom at Babylon. As you watched him, you got off in some trick’s mouth. I think you said something about wishing you were with him. That you missed being with him.”

“Christ,” Brian said, “did I say that. It sounds so lesbianic.”

“Emotions are for everyone, Brian,” Miranda said, trying to keep her tone from sounding exasperated. “Not just women. It’s not a crime for a man to feel something.”

“You obviously didn’t grow up in my household,” Brian snarled. “Emotions, according to Jack, were for pussies.”

Miranda took a deep breath, studying her patient/friend. “Brian, I knew Jack. I know Joan and I know Claire. You are the only good thing that came out of that fucked up family. Jack was a fucking asshole. Claire’s a bitter cunt who can’t keep a man. And I don’t have the words to describe your mom. But we’re not talking about your family, right now. We’re talking about how you got back together with the man who broke your heart.”

“He didn’t break my heart. I don’t have a heart, remember?”

Miranda studied him as she reached for a notepad and pen and clicked on her tape recorder. Sometimes it was better to just listen to Brian than to try to take notes while he was talking to her. And sometimes the sessions were so intense that it would have been distracting to them both to have it disrupted by the scratch of pen against paper. “You’re not the Tin Man, you pretend to be. So, Brian, talk to me. What happened?”

“A week and a half ago, Justin showed up at Vanguard. He had applied for an internship in our art department.”

“Was he aware that it was your place of employment?”

“Yeah, he knew. I think that was a major selling point.”

“Do you think he got the internship because of your prior relationship?”

Brian shook his head before answering. “No, the only person at Vanguard who knows about my knowing Justin previously is my assistant Cynthia.”

“You trust her?”

“With my life,” he said. “Cynthia won’t fuck me over.”

Digesting that, she made a notation on her pad. “So how did you react when you saw him in the Art Department?”

Brian smiled, thinking back upon his reaction. “I was pretty pissed and stunned. I couldn’t believe I was looking at my ex.”

Interesting, she noted, patient calls him “ex” but doesn’t accept that he was in a relationship. “Go on.”

“I called him into my office and asked him what the fuck he was doing there.”

Smooth, she thought. But Brian continued to speak, so Miranda listened, intently. “I reminded him that there were other agencies. Agencies where I don’t work. But he said that Vanguard was the best.”

“Is that true?”

“Which part?”

“That Vanguard is the best.”

“Yes. And part of the reason it’s the best is because of me. I’m good at what I do even though I could care less about selling tampons or douche.”

“Go on,” Miranda said, not reacting to the disparagement of female hygiene products. He was entitled to his opinion. 

“He told me that I had nothing to do with his decision.”

“Do you believe that?”

“Fuck no,” Brian said. “I think I was a major selling point. He wanted me back and was willing to do anything to achieve that goal.”

Arrogance and narcissism, she noted. “So what happened?”

“A week ago, Justin was asked to put up the story boards in a meeting I was conducting with Gardner Vance. I think it was nerves but he dropped a couple of the boards and I was more than slightly pissed. Then the representative from Eyeconic Optics said she didn’t like the color and Justin said something about orange being the new blue.”

“How did you react?”

“I was pissed,” Brian said, remembering his reaction to Justin’s unintentional interference. “I met up with him in the art department later on that afternoon and told him that his time at Vanguard was over. That I had a one fuck-up policy and he was gone. He was upset. Said that he had hoped I wouldn’t mind seeing him around on a daily basis. That I might---” Brian cut himself off.

“Might what, Brian?” Miranda coaxed him.

“Get used to him being around again. I told him that he shouldn’t have expected to run back to me after his fling with Paganini, Jr. was over. He said something about giving up and started to walk past me when I grabbed his arm and told him to have some balls for once.”

“What did you mean by that?”

“I meant that if he wanted me back he should act on it, not just fuck around. That we owed each other that much. That, hell---”

“What, Brian?”

“That he owed me that much. Then he kissed me, a deep soul-searching kiss that went straight to my dick. I wanted to fuck him, Miranda. I wanted to rip off his clothes and take him on the fucking drafting table.”

“What happened?”

“He walked out, leaving me stunned and hard. I had to go into my office and jerk off.”

“Why didn’t you go after him?”

Brian looked down at his hands, as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. “I have a policy of never going after anyone.”

“Is that why you let him walk out the night of the Rage party?” Miranda asked.

Brian met her eyes and she could see the pain in his eyes. “I knew when I led that guy to the back of the club and fucked him that I’d be shoving Justin out the door. But I’d told him it was his call. That it was his choice where he wanted to be.”

“What did you want him to do?”

Brian took a deep breath. “I wanted him to come back to me. I wanted things the way they were before everything got fucked up. I wanted Justin back. But I wasn’t about to go begging him to stay with me.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t do that. I don’t beg for anything,” Brian said.

“How did you feel when he walked out with ---”

“The violin player?” Brian prompted her. “I was hurt. And I was embarrassed that he walked out on me in front of all those people. At a party I had thrown for him and Michael. He didn’t have the balls to talk to me, to tell me it was over in private.”

“You didn’t think fucking someone else where you knew you might get discovered eliminated any need for him to give you the same courtesy of a private breakup?”

“Justin knows who I am. We’ve shared partners before and watched each other fuck others, Miranda. So no I didn’t think it was analogous to what I’d done. I thought he owed me the courtesy of telling me it was over when it was just the two of us. Walking out like he did was a very public ‘fuck you’.”

“So you were hurt?” she prodded.

Brian met her eyes and stubbed out his cigarette. Without asking, Miranda pushed the box to the far edge of the desk. Brian took another and lit it, noticing with irritation that his hands were shaking slightly. “Yeah, I was fucking hurt. I went home that night and lay awake until dawn, hoping he’d come back. I could smell him on the sheets and the pillow case. Fuck. I didn’t think I could feel so hurt.”

“So when he showed up at Vanguard what did you think?”

“I thought that I wasn’t ready for the carousel ride again. But if he wanted to start things up again on a different playing field I might be ready for it.”

“Did you miss him?”

Brian waited a long agonizing moment before saying, in a voice raw with pain, “Yeah, I fucking missed him. I missed waking up with someone. I missed coming home at the end of the day to him. When he walked into the office that day, I was ready to beg him for a second chance. That night when I found him at Babylon, I knew that we were both wishing that we were with each other.”

“So why didn’t you say anything then? Why didn’t you let him know that you wanted to try again?”

“Because that’s not who I am. Brian Kinney doesn’t have to beg for it. And it was his choice to leave. It had to be his choice to walk back in. I wasn’t going to make a preemptive strike when I knew that I might get shot down.”

“So what happened last week?”

Brian smiled. “Cynthia gave me a message that I had a meeting at nine o’clock on Friday.”

“That didn’t strike you as odd?”

“Yeah, it did. Usually I eat dinner with the guys and then we hit Woody’s before Babylon. But that night she was mysterious. I had stuff I could work on so it wasn’t a big deal to beg off doing anything with the guys. When Justin showed up at a quarter till nine, I wasn’t entirely surprised but I was so fucking relieved.”

“What happened?”

“He asked me for a second chance. Told me that he’d made a mistake and wanted me back. Then he promised me that he would never play violin music in my presence again. I told him that he’d be required to work long hard hours sometimes deep into the night.”

“You weren’t just talking about work, were you?”

Brian sent her an incredulous look. “No, I wanted him back in my bed. The sooner the better.”

“So what happened?”

“I pushed stuff around on my desk and then came around to Justin’s side of the desk. Had him close the door and when he came back to me, we found ourselves in each other’s arms kissing like there was no tomorrow.”

“So you fucked him?”

Brian smirked. “Three times at the office. We couldn’t get enough of each other.”

“So is it just a fuck thing? Or do you care about him?”

“I’ve always cared about him,” Brian said. “He’s possibly the only person in my life who I could fall in love with.”

“Not Michael?”

“Mikey loves me,” he admitted. “Foolishly and deeply at times but it’s wrapped up with memories and stuff that will never come to pass. Justin loves me for the man he came to know. I don’t know how to do this relationship shit but I do know that I’ll be damned if I lose him again.”

“So you want this to work with Justin?”

“Yeah, I want this to work with Justin. I know he still loves me. Though I don’t understand why.”

“Has he told you he loves you?”

Brian slowly shook his head. “I think he’s afraid too. In the past, I haven’t always responded well to the words. I don’t put much faith in the words. I’ve always been more action-oriented.”

“Have you ever said them to him?”

Here, Miranda noticed he paused and couldn’t meet her eyes. Then Brian said, “I think that first night I told him I loved him.”

“Really?”

“I was getting ready to shoot and his ass was so tight, working my dick like nothing I’d ever felt before. Nothing like fucking a virgin,” Brian remembered. “I think I told him I loved him as I shot.”

“Did you?”

“It was just something I blurted out,” Brian said. “I didn’t mean it.”

“You don’t think something in your subconscious might have recognized that there was something different about this kid?”

“I’ve never thought of him as a kid,” Brian said, voice suddenly a degree or two cooler. “I’ve always seen him as a man. A sexual being who has the power to bring me to my knees when he chooses to do so.”

“So do you think it’s simply a coincidence that your son was born on the same night you met Justin?”

Brian took another pull on the nearly spent cigarette and said, “I don’t believe in that metaphysical bullshit. I don’t think our paths would’ve crossed if I hadn’t come out of Babylon at that moment and seen him at the street light, glowing like some sepulcher. God, he was so fucking beautiful and angelic.”

“Where do you see yourself going with Justin?”

“I don’t know. I want him in my life. I once told him I wanted him around for a long time. I don’t believe in queers getting married so he and I won’t be standing in front of an altar. But I want him in my life for as long as he’ll put up with my shit.”

“So do you see yourself in a committed relationship with him sometime in the future?”

Brian crushed out the cigarette in the crystal ashtray and met Miranda’s inquisitive eyes. “Before he left me for the fucking strolling violinist, I thought he was my partner. I referred to him that way.”

“Did you ever tell him that?”

“No,” Brian admitted. “I thought he understood that was how I felt.”

“Did you not think it important for him to know that he was important to you?”

“From the very beginning we’ve had this kind of bond, Miranda. I could kind of sense when he was in the room with me. It’s like a magnetic pull between us. It’s more than just sexual chemistry though he can wear me out sometimes. I thought he understood that when I said that I’d be coming home to him that what I was really saying was that he was the person I wanted to be with.”

“So you expected him to read between the lines?”

“Yes,” Brian said. “He gets me, Doc. He knows me better than almost anyone. Hell, better than you and Michael. Even better than Lindsay. You’ve all known me from different stages of my life. He fell in love with a man he didn’t even know. And he fought for me. Hell, he even left home to be with me. He could have permanently fucked up his relationship with his family because I mattered more to him than they did. But he’s got a relationship with his mom and his sister.”

“And his dad?”

“His dad’s a fucking asshole,” Brian burst out. “He’s nothing like Jack but he’s still a homophobic prick. He rammed my jeep one night at a stop sign and totaled it. I had a fucking concussion from that. And he attacked me outside Woody’s. When Justin got hurt, Craig didn’t even go to the hospital. It’s like he doesn’t even have a fucking son and that hurts Justin deeply.”

“Would you do anything to protect him?”

“Yeah,” he said, voice so quiet she could barely hear him. “Yeah, I’d do just about anything for Justin. If he asked me to cut open a vein for him, I’d do it.”

“Do you think that’s a healthy attitude?”

Brian snorted. “No, Doc, I don’t think it’s healthy. But he’d do the same for me. And I can be a complete and utter asshole to him. Still he loves me.”

“And that surprises you?”

“Yeah. I didn’t feel that growing up. Claire saw me as the misfit younger brother. And then as we grew up she saw me as someone who had a masculine beauty that she didn’t inherit. But still she had a deep devotion to Jack and a resigned acceptance of Joan. It was me who she didn’t understand.”

“That hurts you, doesn’t it?”

Brian shook his head. “You know my family, Miranda. It’s no great loss. Growing up with the Kinneys was like growing up on a minefield in the Khmer Rouge. I don’t want whatever I have with Justin to be like that. I don’t want to be Jack.”

“Do you think you’re like Jack?”

Brian paused. “I think I have to fight that everyday. I use alcohol and sex as coping mechanisms and pain management. Instead of going out looking for cooze like my old man, I hit the backrooms and the alleys looking for someone willing to suck my dick or a nice ass. I fight the violence that lies within me.”

“And your son?”

“I’d never hit my son,” Brian said. “I would never hit my fucking son. But that’s part of the reason I signed my rights away to the munchers. I don’t have the patience to be a full-time dad. And I don’t want to ever put myself in the situation where I might even be tempted to strike my son. I was Gus’s age the first time Jack hit me. And I remember how it felt when the belt made contact with my butt or my back. I would never put Gus through that.”

“And Justin?”

“I’ve never hit Justin,” Brian said. “The night he came home after being with him and I knew for a certainty that he was fucking around on me, I was tempted. I was drunk and hurt and I knew I was going to end up losing him. That, on some level, I’d already lost him. Instead I kissed him and pretended I was going to fuck him. It got fairly physical and then I pushed him away from me saying he stunk and needed a shower.”

“Did you want him?”

The pain in Brian’s eyes glazed over as they bled from hazel to a deep, foresty green. “There’s never been a moment when I haven’t wanted Justin. At times I crave him like a junkie craves heroin. I’m willing to put up with a lot of shit from Justin. But I know that he puts up with a lot of my shit simply because he loves me.”

“Are you happy now that you’re working things out?” Miranda asked, sneaking a surreptitious glance at the clock on the wall.

“Yeah,” Brian said. “I’m happy. I fucked him in a supply closet at the office today.”

“Aren’t you worried about getting caught?”

“Fuck, Miranda. That’s what makes it hot,” Brian quipped. “Besides, I’ve always been something of an exhibitionist. We were going to have a floor show for my assistant and Justin’s best friend.”

“Really? Is that such a good idea?”

“I said was, Doc. We decided it wasn’t such a good idea. Bring up too many bad memories.” Brian reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and removed his checkbook. He reached for the Mont Blanc pen on her desk and quickly wrote out a check.

Handing it to her, he asked, “So how fucked up am I?”

She bit back a smile, deciding that wasn’t entirely professional. “Brian, I have patients who like wearing female lingerie and others who like to be watched while they pee. Trust me, your concerns and neuroses are fairly normal. And I would like to see you once a week.”

“Is that necessary?”

She paused. “I won’t make it an order but I think it’d be good for you. You may find that therapy is a concept that works for you. I’d like to see you start keeping a journal. There’s a book by Julia Cameron called The Artist Way that is excellent.”

“A journal?” Brian asked, skepticism clear in his voice.

“Think of it as a safe way to tell what you’re thinking and what you’re feeling. You don’t have to let anyone know about it. Writing can be very cathartic.”

“Writing can also turn you on,” he snarked and watched her color.

“Where did you hear that?”

“Michael’s partner is a professor in the Gay Studies department at Carnegie Mellon. When Michael and Justin first started working together on Rage, he told me that when he was writing he was completely turned on.”

“I take it you were jealous of Michael and Justin.”

“To say the least,” he admitted. “I walked in on them asleep in my bed one night. Nothing happened but I was high and drunk and irritated that they were getting along so well. I tore down a bunch of sketches and pissed on them.”

“Very mature,” she observed as he sent her a glare.

“Well, I wasn’t in complete control of my faculties,” he defended his actions. “But yeah, it wasn’t mature and I hurt both of them. Especially Justin.”

“The journal, Brian?”

Sighing, he said, “Yeah, I’ll do it.”

Then she looked at him and said, “You forgot the Chinese.”

“Fuck,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. This was a good session, Brian. I want you to keep me updated on your progress. Take it slow. Don’t rush things. Things can’t go back to what they were before you two broke up.”

Brian stood and looked down at her. His expression softened slightly as he said, “Thanks for putting up with my shit.”

She nodded. “Glad I could help. Good luck.”

She walked him out and stood watching as his taillights disappeared into the horizon. Hope they’ll be okay, she thought, returning to her office to transcribe her session tape. It had been a fairly intense session but she thought it had done her patient some good. Brian had a tendency to shut down, out of a need for self-preservation, so any time he was open was a major breakthrough. Miranda worked late into the evening on the notes, thinking that eventually she would want to talk to both he and Justin together. She couldn’t help wondering if that would ever happen.

Meanwhile, Brian drove home, wondering if he and Justin would make it. He knew that he was determined to give it his all. And he hoped that was good enough for a certain blond.


	22. Finding a Way Back

Later that evening, Brian found himself at a bookstore, browsing through the titles of newly released books and wondering just what he was doing. The session with Miranda had gone better than he’d expected despite his outburst and he was willing to try to work things out with Justin. A few aisles over, Ben was looking through the metaphysical books when he saw a familiar head. Recognizing it as Brian, he made his way over to the other man.

“Brian,” Ben started and nearly laughed when he saw the expression on Brian’s face. He looked like the proverbial kid caught stealing cookies out of a cookie jar.

“Ben,” Brian breathed, relief calming his nerves. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for a Khalil Gibran book. You? This isn’t one of your normal haunts.”

Reminded of Ben’s reaction to his punching Michael out, Brian was understandably reluctant. So he snarked, “I guess you thought the whore of Pittsburgh couldn’t read.”

“I deserve that,” Ben admitted. “And I was so fucking pissed at you for lighting into Michael the way you did.”

“Your partner,” Brian said derisively, “ever tell you why exactly it is that I hit him?”

Slowly Ben shook his head. He’d often wondered why it was that Brian had hit Michael but had never asked his lover. Brian smiled knowingly. Of course, he thought, Michael would never reveal anything that would cast himself in a bad light but is more than willing to make me look like the bad guy in this scenario. Well, fuck that. “”No,” he said, meeting Brian’s eyes. “You want to tell me?”

“Ask your partner,” Brian said, turning to walk away. He’d known this was a bad idea. Why had he listened to Miranda? Then he felt Ben’s hand on his shoulder and whirled back to face him. “What?” he snarled.

“Somehow I don’t think Michael will tell me the truth. He tends to view you through rose-colored glasses. And you don’t bullshit me so I want you to tell me.”

Brian curved his lips and smiled wryly. “So you’ll believe a whore over your lover?”

Understanding just how badly the words had wounded Brian, Ben took a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have called you that. I understand that your actions were because you were hurting and your form of pain management is different from everyone else’s. I have no excuse, Brian. I’m sorry.” He paused, then said, “Please tell me what the fuck he said to you. You’re not usually a violent person.”

“No, I’m not,” Brian said. “Want to grab a cup of coffee? I just need to buy this and then I’m done.”

Ben looked at the book in his hand and then at Brian. “The Artist Way?”

Brian nodded. “And a journal?”

Brian slightly inclined his head, looking rather embarrassed. Ben knew how hard it must be for Brian to be caught out like this. “Don’t ask.”

 

Understanding that it really was none of his business, Ben’s curiosity was nevertheless piqued. The items truly were unusual purchases for Brian Kinney to make. But he was gradually coming to understand that perhaps he didn’t know Brian as well as he thought. After all, one fuck does not unravel the mysteries of one so tightly wound as Brian Kinney. And he really did care about the other man for it bothered him to see anyone hurting. And Brian had obviously been hurting when he and Justin were apart even if others in their small, select group didn’t recognize it. So he followed Brian up to the counter and watched as Brian plunked down his platinum card and then waited for the sales receipt.

“Starbucks?” Ben asked, after they were in the parking lot.

Brian shook his head and said, “No, I hate that place. There’s a charming little bodega that serves great Cuban coffee. Strong as you want it. I appreciate you not making a big deal out of this.”

“Out of what?” Ben asked, casting an understanding glance in Brian’s direction. “Contrary to what others might think, I understand that you have the right to your own life. And the right to make your own decisions and choices about the people you love and forgive.”

“Mikey told you that I got back together with Justin, huh?”

Ben nodded as he climbed into the Corvette. Waiting until Brian tore out of the parking lot to respond, he studied the other man’s profile. Brian looked different, he mused. Older, though he definitely wouldn’t appreciate the observation. “Yeah,” he said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. The old attraction was still there though neither of them would ever act on it again. And he knew it wasn’t because he was HIV+ but because Brian didn’t poach on his friend’s partners. He wouldn’t ever play that game and Ben respected him for that. Even though it bothered him tremendously that Michael still had such unresolved feelings for the man seated beside him.

Brian pulled into the parking lot of Magdalena’s and Ben noted the parking lot was packed though the restaurant itself was rather nondescript. Not one of Brian’s typical places, he judged. “You eat yet?” Brian asked, once they were seated.

Ben shook his head and said, “No. I was going to fix some stir fry when I got home but I wanted to see if there was anything new at the bookstore first. I’m thinking about starting on a new novel but the creative juices aren’t flowing.”

“Sex life okay?” Brian teased. He could relax his guard around Ben and he was grateful for that.

Ben had the grace to flush and then said, “Yeah, it’s fine. But you don’t want to hear about me and Michael.”

Brian shook his head. “Uh uh. So how are things going between you and Mikey?”

“Other than a pack of hustlers moving in outside because of Stockwell’s new policies, we’re good.”

Not responding to the slight dig about his involvement with the Republican police chief’s campaign, he said, “So I’m not causing any problems between you two?”

Ego much? But Ben didn’t react with hostility. He simply said, “I accept the connection you have with Michael. But he’s in my bed.”

Brian smiled at that. “Yeah, he is. And Justin is in mine. So we should all be happy...” His voice trailed off.

“So why aren’t you happy, Brian?”

 

“I didn’t know you were a doctor,” he quipped. Then his mood turned serious as he took a swallow of his Dos Equis. “I’m not good at the relationship shit. And Justin has high expectations of me that I always fall short of. I’m good at two things: fucking and advertising. I’m not good at being anyone’s lover or partner.”

Ben took a swallow of his own beer and then picked up a tortilla chip, dipping it in the spicy salsa, before responding. It was always best to handle Brian with care. He saw the fragility in the other man even if the others did not. And he knew how easily Brian could be wounded and knew his natural response was to act like an asshole when he was hurt. “Do you want that? A relationship?”

Brian took his own chip and focused his attention on the menu before responding with increasing trepidation. “Off the record here, right? I mean, I don’t want you going back to Mikey letting him know I’m vulnerable as all shit. I don’t need him in our business, Ben. I’m trying to work through this on my own and the last thing I need is him tossing shit about Justin in my face. I need to know that you won’t fuck me over.”

“You can trust me,” Ben said. 

Brian looked down at the chip in his hand and dunked it into the salsa before popping it into his mouth. “Yeah, I guess I can. Where do you want me to start?”

“How about Lindsay and Melanie’s anniversary party? And what exactly it was that Michael said to you.”

Hesitating, Brian picked up his beer and took another sip. “He said that Justin was just using me and that I would’ve been better off if I’d just left him in the parking garage to bleed to death.”

Well, fuck me, Ben thought. Now he could understand Brian’s action and felt doubly guilty for calling him a whore. But at the time, the words had fit Brian’s normal behavior. “So you hit him.”

Brian nodded. “Then I showed up at the Red Cape with a thirty-dollar steak for his eye. I felt guilty. I don’t usually resort to physical violence. Got enough of that as a kid. He made some comment about how I must really love the kid and I walked out of the comic store.”

“Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Love Justin?”

Brian began to peel the label off the beer bottle, a clear sign of nervousness and anxiety. Then he looked up and met Ben’s eyes. “You know everyone asks me that fucking question. I like fucking him, I like talking to him, I like hanging out with him, and I miss him when he’s not around. But whether that constitutes love I haven’t the faintest idea. After all, I’m the last person in the world to define love with any sort of clarity.”

I never thought I’d feel sorry for Brian fucking Kinney, Ben thought, though he knew he didn’t have the same sort of feelings about Brian as his other friends did. After all, they had shared a bed once upon a time. A memory that still had the ability to make him hard even when he was in love with the man's best friend. “One day you may have to make a choice, Brian. I think you can do the relationship thing but it takes two. It’s not just you. Justin is your first relationship and it’s his second. Don’t you think he’s scared too?”

He was startled to see Brian shake his head and then rest his head on his hands, “No, it’s not my first. But it’s the most real relationship I’ve ever been in. It’s the first one that I really desperately wanted to succeed with every fiber of my being. When he walked in that first day at Vanguard, I was so fucking relieved to see him. It hurt me to see him so happy with someone else. I wanted that for us. Except I didn’t want to put a fucking ring on his finger. I still don't but it hurt me when I saw it."

Ben was still lost at the revelation that this wasn’t Brian’s first relationship. “Not your first relationship?” he queried.

Brian felt himself go pale underneath the tan he paid a small fortune to maintain. “Um,” he began, then realized that Ben was probably one of the few people who would absolutely not buy his bullshit. So he gave up trying to put up the facade of cool indifference that he’d perfected over the years. Hell, he thought. “I hooked up with Lindsay a few times in college,” he said, still trying to save face a bit but knowing that he was failing.

“That’s not what you meant, Brian. So you went through the whole heterosexual experience thing like most young gay men. Well, except for Michael,” he added. “But your few times with Lindsay are not what you meant. You couldn’t have always had these rules in place about how you were only interested in fucking and not relationships, that you thought love was bullshit. A made-up story for hets and lesbians. So stop giving me that bullshit and tell me what caused you to put up all these walls around your heart. There’s more to the story.”

Brian was kind of stunned by the impact of Ben’s words and found himself respecting the professor even more. He’d never really talked to Ben before. It had always been a quick “hi” or is “Mikey there?” but he’d never really taken the time to get to know the man. Even the time in Miami at the White Party had been spent in bed so his mouth was occupied with other more important things. Talking had been the last thing on his mind. “You really want to know?” he asked, fighting the urge to glance at his watch, knowing that he had nearly promised Justin that they’d hook up tonight. But sex wasn’t what he wanted right now.

Ben nodded. “Yeah, you can talk to me. I don’t judge.”

“You might after you hear the story,” Brian said, motioning for the waitress who had studied him with such open admiration. She was okay, he supposed, if you liked pussy. “A pitcher and a couple of tequila shooters for both of us.”

Ben raised his eyebrows and then met Brian’s eyes. Well, this is a first, he thought, me and Brian getting drunk. Who’d have thought? He was willing to let Brian talk, sensing the other man needed the opportunity to vent. Better him than someone in the baths. “I’d kill for a cigarette right now,” Brian said, taking a moment to drain the bottle of beer. “I’m going to piss and then I’ll be back.”

While Brian and Ben were on their own adventure, Justin was faced with an increasingly irate Daphne. She pouted and stormed around the apartment and then whirled back to face him, like a tornado given human form. “Daph, I’m sorry.”

“Ooph,” she squealed. 

“It’s not my fault Curtis prefers men to women,” Justin said, instantly aware that was perhaps the worst thing he could have said and not something that would soothe his best friend. “I didn’t turn him.”

In response, Daphne winged a pillow at him. Then picked up one of her bunny slippers and lobbed it at him. He brought his arms up in instinctive response and caught the slipper. Then she seemed to realize what she’d done and looked at him. Then she started giggling nervously which soon metamorphosed into tears. 

Justin stared at his best friend in something like shock which then crystallized. Daphne met his eyes and then suddenly realized that it didn't matter. "You and Brian do this sort of thing often?" she asked, knowing that they didn’t. Brian was far too possessive to allow this sort of thing to occur often.

"Um," Justin began, "no. But we haven't been back together that long."

Daphne studied him and then asked, "Just, you happy?"

Justin nodded and beamed at her. "Yeah, it's nice being back together with Brian."

"Just nice?" she asked, a teasing note in her voice.

"Brat."

"Hey, you're the one who cost me my boyfriend."

"And I thought you were blaming Brian."

"You're the one who is here," she reminded him. "So is it just nice?"

Resigned to giving over the details to Daphne, Justin sighed. "No, it's pretty fucking fantastic. He fucked me in the supply room at the office today."

Her eyes grew wide as she took in that little tidbit of knowledge. Wow, she thought. "That sounds amazing. Weren't you worried about getting caught?"

"Nope."

Daphne could believe that. She had a feeling there was little Brian Kinney was ashamed of and getting caught in a compromising position would probably excite his inner exhibitionist. "So was it good?"

"Sex with Brian is never bad," Justin said smugly. 

And Daphne could attest to that fact having experienced the man's tongue herself. But she knew that was a one time experience and not likely to ever happen again. It had almost been like a waking dream. "He better not hurt you again," she warned, "or I'll kick his ass."

Behind the teasing Justin could hear the truth and ferocity of her words. "I think we'll get it right this time, Daph."

"So are things different?"

"We're talking more," he said. "And the sex has never been better. That night in the office I thought he'd never let me come, he just kept pounding into me and thrusting faster. And then he finally pushed me over the edge when I was begging him to let me come. I nearly passed out."

Daphne flushed and said, "TMI, Just. TMI."

He grinned knowingly and said, "C'mon, Daph. You know imagining me and Brian together is one of your hottest fantasies."

This was true, she admitted. But it was a dream that would never come to pass. Still she nodded, somewhat embarrassed. "So you think you'll be able to work things out?"

Justin nodded. Yeah, he thought, we'll get it right this time or kill each other trying. Life with Brian was never easy but the rewards far outweighed the penalties. And this time he'd win the lightning round, he vowed. "I think the time apart changed things for both of us, Daph. He's not shutting me out like he used to."

Daphne wasn't sure about that. Brian was an old dog and it was hard teaching them new tricks. And Justin was the new pup. And she'd seen the look in Brian's eyes when he'd been paying attention to Curtis and Justin. She'd felt his flesh physically heat up with jealousy and the need for possession. "So where is he tonight?"

Shrugging, Justin said, "He said he had some stuff to do. Errands. But if I wanted to come over I could."

"You think he's still tricking?"

He sent her an incredulous look which said clearly as if he'd spoken, This is Brian we're talking about. Of course, he's still tricking. But he said only, "Don't know. Didn’t ask him to give me an itinerary."

"Hey, don't get snippy. It was a logical question." Daphne paused, and then continued, "So what are the rules this time around?"

"No rules," Justin bit out around a sudden flash of guilt that started in his stomach and worked its way up. "I'm the one who can't stick to 'em apparently."

"And Brian?"

"He hasn't mentioned it. It's kind of a sore subject considering he's the one who actually stuck to them."

"So no rules. Any guidelines?"

"We're not a game show, Daph. We'll cross that bridge when it comes to it."

"I just hope you don't get impaled," she said, quietly. She looked down at the cross-stitched quilt and missed the expression on his face.

So do I, Justin thought.

Magdalena’s…

Brian returned from the men's room and found Ben studying the room with a pensive expression on his face. "See anything you like, Professor?" Brian quipped.

"No," Ben said. "You?"

Brian scanned the room and found nothing that even remotely seemed attractive to him. "No hot prospects here. It's primarily a place for breeders."

"So how'd you come across this place? It's not one of your typical haunts, Brian. It looks like a place you'd drive out of your way to avoid."

He smiled and said, "I had a couple of clients who flew in from the "Big D" and wanted Mexican food. Pittsburgh isn't exactly known for its fine Mexican cuisine but I had Cynthia do some research and she came up with this place. I was pleasantly surprised." And relieved cause he'd won the client and a $10,000 signing bonus. It had been a very good business meeting and he hadn't had to fuck anyone to get the client. 

"So what do you recommend?"

"The cheese enchiladas with chili sauce are good. Or the mushroom and spinach quesadillas. Depends on what you're looking for."

Ben smiled and said, "You and I don't talk much, do we?"

"No," Brian said. "I don't really feel like being a steak tonight, Ben."

Understanding what Brian meant by the seemingly oblique comment, Ben said, "No pressure. I just thought you might tell me what's bothering you about going on with you and Justin."

"Nothing. It's good. But we're playing it slow."

"That your idea or his?"

"Mine."

"Rules?"

Brian glared at him. "Not if I can fucking help it. That's what sank us before. And why are his rules so much more important than mine?"

"Hey, Brian, I wasn't trying to hit an exposed nerve. I always thought those were a bad idea. So why'd you agree to them in the first place?"

Good question. It was a long moment before Brian answered, "Because he was willing to walk out on me and I knew we were in deep shit trouble." He paused and then met Ben's eyes. "How'd you know you were in love with Michael?"

Not expecting to have it turned around on him, Ben smiled wryly. "I knew when he sat with me in the hospital room. I knew that I'd found someone who'd stick by my side and wasn't going to run because I was HIV+."

Brian closed his eyes and found himself deep in thought. Then his eyes popped open and he said, in a low voice, "I knew when I held Justin in that parking lot that somehow I'd fallen in love with him. I didn't realize how much it would hurt me if he left. And then I sat outside in the hospital corridor for three days, waiting for him to wake up. And I knew that if he died I'd have lost some of the purpose in my own life." Those few days had been among the darkest of Brian’s life. He never wanted to go back there again.

"So it's not just sex?"

"No! It's not just about fucking, though granted that's amazing. He can match me."

Somehow Ben didn't doubt that the small blond was Brian's equal in a lot of ways and superior in others. But the love they shared was clear as day. "So why can't you say the words to him, Brian?"

"You know my shrink asked me that question today."

Ben's eyes grew wide as he stared at his dining companion. Before he could respond to that little bombshell, the waitress appeared at Brian's elbow. "Are you ready to order, sir?"

"Taco salad," Brian said. "Ranch dressing on the side."

"I'll have the mushroom and spinach quesadillas."

When the waitress disappeared, Ben poured some more beer into his pilsner glass and stared hard at Brian. "A shrink?"

"If you tell anyone, I'll tell Michael the whole fucking story about the White Party. And just what you and I did together."

Sensing the threat was deadly and not just machismo, Ben nodded. "My lips are sealed. So you've been seeing a shrink?"

Brian nodded. "Yeah, Miranda Jameson. I knew her before I transferred into the public school system. She's my oldest friend aside from Michael."

"So is that why you were buying the journal and the book?"

"Yeah. She thinks it might be a good idea for me to keep a journal. Says it might be cathartic but I don't plan on shooting my load any time soon. At least, not without Justin's fine little ass being involved."

Ben colored. "You aren't going to let me forget what I said about how writing turns me on, are you?"

He shook his head and grinned, saying only, "I should blame you for me pissing on Justin's artwork. But seriously I know that I'm like a pressure cooker. This writing shit down stuff should be good for me, I guess."

"Are you saying that fucking is your only emotional outlet?" That was rather sad, Ben thought. Nobody should have to suffer alone.

"Yeah, it's how I cope with emotions and pain."

"Brian, how did you spend the first couple of nights after the Rage party?"

It was a personal question but Brian didn't hesitate to answer it. "I got drunk and high and hit the baths."

"So did you fuck anyone?"

So that was a stupid question, Ben realized, as soon as the words left his mouth but he waited for Brian's response. Brian's response surprised him. "I ended up letting a stream of guys fuck me," Brian admitted. 

Okay, Ben thought, reaching for his glass of beer. Don't ever ask a question you aren't sure of the answer. Ben spoke quietly, "A gang-bang, Brian."

"Not really. They all used condoms but, yeah, I was the receptacle. I was too fucking out of it to make a big deal out of the fact that I'm a top." He remembered waking up with come stains on his chest and face. It hadn't been one of his finer moments.

"You let me fuck you," Ben pointed out. One of the highlights of the fabled White Party. But now wasn't the time to address that. Christ, he thought, why didn't any of us see just how much he was hurting over losing Justin? We all thought that the kid was the one who got the raw deal never recognizing just how much it fucked with Brian's head. And no, not that one.

Brian's mouth twisted as he reached for his own glass. Taking a sip he then picked up one of the shot glasses and downed the Jose Cuervo. "Yeah, I did." Pausing, he then added, "You enjoyed being a bottom boy that weekend, Ben."

"Off the subject, Brian. So was it because you wanted to get fucked or was it that you were in tremendous pain from Justin leaving you."

Brian looked down at his watch and then at Ben. Seems he'd be breaking one of his new promises to Justin. Hopefully the kid would forgive him. Before he answered, their food arrived. Digging into his salad, Brian knew that he wouldn't be able to squirm out of this one. Giving into the inevitable, he said, "Both, I guess. On some level, I wanted to be humiliated like I was that night at Babylon. My self-worth and self-image had just been shat upon, Ben. I didn't feel like I was worth more than being debased. Now I realize that I should have just gone to Babylon, picked some twink out and fucked the shit out of him."

"So you think you're worth more now?" Ben asked, taking a bite of his quesadilla.

"Fuck yeah."

He couldn't help but smile. God, it was good to have Brian back in full form. Never thought I'd be relieved to see that, Ben thought, wryly. "The gang wasn't there for you," he pointed out.

"No," Brian said. "And Deb was leading the charge against me. Always assuming that I'm the one who causes or creates problems between Justin and me. Because dear little Sunshine can do no wrong."

"You're still pissed at him," Ben pointed out.

"A bit, yeah. But we're working things out. And Michael doesn't help matters much when he's constantly pointing out how many times Justin has hurt me or that he's not worth it."

"One of these days you may have to choose."

There was no point in quibbling about what exactly Ben meant by that statement. Brian simply nodded and said, "Enough talking. I'll tell you the story about the other relationship some other time. And, as to the choice, I know."

Ben was left to wonder who Brian would choose and figured that, in the end, Michael would end up being hurt. They finished the remainder of dinner discussing mundane things and Brian ended up dropping Ben off at his bike. "Hey, Brian," Ben began, as the other man started to drive off.

Brian lowered the passenger window and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Thanks for dinner. And good luck."

Brian nodded and left Ben to find his own way home.

Meanwhile at Daphne and Justin's apartment…

Justin was curled up in the easy chair with an afghan over his lap and a sketchpad in hand. Daphne had long since disappeared into her room and he could hear the quiet clicking of her fingers as she worked on her laptop. She had some paper due tomorrow, he remembered. So he was lost in his own thoughts when he heard his cell phone begin to ring. His heart sped up and he realized that he was hoping it was Brian.

"Hello."

Brian grinned as he heard Justin's voice. "Hey, you still up?"

"Yeah, working on some sketches. You finish your errands?"

"Yeah, I ended up having dinner with Ben. You still want to get together?"

As if I'd turn him down, Justin thought. "Sure. You want me to meet you at the loft?"

Brian thought about it and then said, "No, why don't I swing by the apartment? We can try out your bed."

"Um," Justin began, then smiled as a devilish idea sprang to his mind. "I'll leave the door unlocked."

"Sunshine, are you up to something?" Brian asked, feeling his cock begin to awaken in his pants. Damn traffic lights, he thought.

"Not up yet," Justin responded, the double entendre intentional and he knew it wouldn't be lost on Brian. "How long?"

"Oh 9 1/2 inches cut," Brian teased.

"Asshole."

"I thought you liked my asshole."

"I do. How long?"

"If I hit greens on the way over, maybe fifteen minutes tops."

"Later."

"Later."

Justin picked up his messenger bag and hurried into his small, cramped bedroom. The computer Brian had bought him took up a good deal of his desk space and he wondered if Brian would mind if he took it back over to the loft. Then he rummaged through a drawer finally finding the black velvet choker that Brian loved so much. Along with a cock ring. Perfect, he thought.

As he was getting ready, Daphne knocked on his door. Shit, he thought, looking around for a robe or something. But there wasn't any way to disguise his erection. "Just a minute," he said. Then he decided, fuck it. 

When he opened the door, Daphne's eyes went wide as she took in the sight of her best friend. "Um," she began. Then had to swallow as she realized that she'd never seen Justin quite that large. "You expecting company?" she asked, with a twinkle in her eyes.

"Brian," he said, shortly. He wasn't trying to be rude but she'd caught him in a very awkward position.

"He's coming here?" She was unable to keep her voice from coming out a nervous squeak.

Justin nodded. "You want us to leave?"

This is so fucking unfair, Daphne fumed. Yet another night to enjoy the marvels of plastic pleasure, she thought, bitterly. She knew that nothing would replace the feel of rigid flesh and knew it was the same for Justin. The difference was Justin didn't have to fuck a plastic cock tonight. She shook her head as she met Justin's clear blue eyes. "No," she said, aware of the resigned note in her voice. She was reminded of the words spoken at AA meetings and ran through the litany in her head. "Just keep it down, okay?"

"Or very, very up," Justin said, a huge smile on his face.

"Ooh," she said, turning on her heel as she disappeared once more into her bedroom. Justin looked after her and then heard the knock on the door. He looked back at his room and knew that it was certainly no loft and he found he missed fucking under the orange glow a bit. In the time after he and Ethan split, Justin hadn't brought anyone back to the apartment. It just hadn't felt right and besides he knew he wasn’t going to find what he really wanted in the backroom. Not when what he wanted was Brian. 

He walked nonchalantly to the front door and opened it to be faced with a very turned on Brian. Brian was rendered speechless by the sight of Justin. "Sunshine," he said, his voice nearly strangled. "What the fuck are you wearing?"

"Why don't you come in and see?"

Brian waited until Justin had closed the door behind him before pouncing. "I want to fuck you all night long," he breathed against Justin's ear. "I wanted to fuck you when you came in to show me that story board."

"So what are you waiting for?" Justin said, his hands finding Brian's waist. Then he set to work on the belt buckle, pulling it free from the loops of Brian's slacks, as Brian backed him up towards the door of his bedroom. By the time Justin was laying down on the bed, Brian's pants were down around his ankles, his own cock purpley-red and obviously angry.

Brian kicked the door closed and looked down at the delectable morsel laid out for his conquest on the bed. Justin had never looked hotter. As much as Brian wanted to fuck him, he wanted something equally as bad. He lay down on top of Justin and said, "I want you to undress me and then I want you to suck me."

"With pleasure, Mr. Kinney," Justin said, the words a seductive purr that sent a jolt through both of their dicks. "Have I been a bad employee?"

Brian nearly smiled at the words. He knew what his little boy wanted and he was perfectly willing to give it to him but he wanted it to be on Justin's terms. Justin's mouth found his and Brian let him set the pace, as his fingers found the buttons, nearly pulling them free in his haste. As they broke for air, Brian said only, "It's a two-hundred dollar shirt, Sunshine. Don’t send the buttons flying. We've got all night."

Justin smiled at the promise implied in those words. "What do you want me to do, Mr. Kinney?"

With a practiced move, Brian flipped them so that Justin was on top of him. "I want you to lick me from head to toe, Taylor. Paying careful attention to my tits."

"And me, Mr. Kinney?"

"Bad employees don't deserve compensation."

"But, Mr. Kinney---" Justin began, then saw the gleam in Brian's eyes. His lover was powerfully turned on by this game.

Brian's hands drifted between their bodies, the pad of his thumb, brushing against the head of Justin's aching cock. Justin nearly moaned at the sensation, his own eyes going dark. Brian saw the shift and knew he was doing something right. Justin reached over to his night table and opened a drawer, removing a condom and the tube of lube. Brian looked at the contents of the drawer and saw the handcuffs. Hmm, he thought. "Taylor," Brian said, as he reached in and got the handcuffs, enjoying the look Justin threw him. He knew the score. Oh yes, his baby knew the score. 

But it wasn't time to play yet, Brian thought. There was still much to do, he thought, as his mind was set whirling in a different direction. Time enough to do what they both wanted, he thought.


End file.
